


Fast Car

by aprilswanxx



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Arkadia, Bellarke, F/M, Gang AU, Multi, Other, Slow Burn, bellarke is endgame, let's build a society princess, skicru
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 119,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6955738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilswanxx/pseuds/aprilswanxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arkadia is the only land of civilization left after a long treacherous war. It has been a hundred years of rebuilding, reforming, and constitutionalizing society. The rules are harsh, food and water scarce, and the living conditions worse, but the council members believe it is the only way to ensure survival. Clarke Griffin disagrees. </p><p>So she leaves, goes to the one place she knows that will help her, or more so that she can offer help to.</p><p>Skicru. </p><p>Their leader is the angry and notoriously confident Bellamy Blake, and Clarke doesn't know whether that will help her or hurt her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Fast Car by Tracy Chapman.

Here is a playlist for this story. This entire fic came from a song I heard in the car one day and imagined what Bellamy and Clarke would do if that same song came on the radio, and they were cruising at high speed, on a dangerous mission. 

The songs do not correlate to the chapters, but to the flow of the story itself. I have about 3-4 more chapters left, meaning that this does hint at the ending as I have already written it out and just editing the shit out of it. 

 

Some of you actually recommended some tracks. I loved them and listened to them all, for sure. 

 

Thank you so much for the love you’ve given this story. I cannot wait for the ending, and for the new projects coming up. 

 

xx

 

**Fast Car** \- Jonas Blue Ft. Dakota

**Bellarke Theme** \- Tree Adams

**The Moon** \- Alexandre Desplait

**Runaway** \- Ed Sheeran

**Prologue-** James Newton Howard

**The City** \- The 1975

**Radioactive** \- Imagine Dragons (Acoustic)

**Heathens** \- Boyce Avenue Cover

**Monster** -Eminem

**Soap** \- Melanie Martinez

**The Awakening** \- Tree Adams

**Hoover Dam** \- Andrew Lockington

**Young** \-  The Chainsmokers

**Bellarke Theme** -Tree Adams

**Fast Car** \- Jonas Blue Ft. Dakota

**Youth** \- Troye Sivan

**Dark Times** \- The Weekend Ft. Ed Sheeran

**A Hero’s Funera** l - Tree Adams

**Omen** \- Sam Smith

**Light of Seven** \- Ramin Djawadi

**Echo** \- Jason Walker

**Emma** \- Steven Price

**Bombings** \- Alexandre Desplait 

**Yellow Flicker Beat** \- Lorde

**Roses** \- The Chainsmokers

**You and Me** \- Lighthouse

**Mermaids** \- Hans Zimmer

**Goodbye Brother** \- Ramin Djawadi

**Skinny Love** \- Bella Ferraro Cover

**Set Me on Fire** \- Bella Ferraro

**Between Wind and Water** \- Hael

**Young Blood** \- The Naked and Famous

**Honest** \- The Chainsmokers

**Fast Car** \- Jonas Blue Ft. Dakota

**Beautiful Soul** \- Boyce Avenue Cover

**Hold Back the River** \- James Bay

Don’t Let Me Be Yours - Zara Larsson

**Tenerife Sea** \- Ed Sheeran

**Demons**  - Imagine Dragons

**Or Nah** \- The Weekend

**L$D** \- ASAP Rocky

**Empire**  - Ella Henderson

**Can’t Get Enough** \- Basenji

**Latch** \- Disclosure Ft. Sam Smith

**Hurricane** \- Halsey (Arty Remix)

**Time’s Up** \- Danny Elfman

**A Crucifixion** \- Tree Adams

**Bellarke Theme** \- Tree Adams

**The Words** \- Christina Perri 

**Waving Through a Window** \- Dear Evan Hansen

**Setting Fires** \- The Chainsmokers

**I See Fire** \- Ed Sheeran

**Misty Mountains** \- Richard Armitage

**London** \- James Newton Howard

**The Battle** \- Hans Zimmer

**Just Like Fire** \- Pink

**Glory and Gore** \- Lorde

**Never Forget You** \- Zara Larsson Ft. MNEK

**Faded** \- Alan Walker

**Closer** \- Leroy Sanchez Cover

**Only You** \- Selena Gomez Cover

**Bellamy and Clarke** \- Tree Adams

**Fast Car** \- Jonas Blue Ft. Dakota

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

1.

The train moved slower than usual, or that’s how it felt for her anyways. She was sitting with her knee tucked under her chin thinking about how she’s going to pull this off. The atmosphere on the subway was usually loud, busy, maybe even light hearted, but tonight it was silent. It was after one in the morning, but she knew that this was as good time as any, if not the best time to get this plan into motion.

Arkadia, the only known land of civilization, had massive walls around its citizens. The walls were meant to keep out any possible enemies, although for the last hundred years they hadn’t seen another living soul. The rules and regulations that were reinforced by the Chancellor, Thelonious Jaha, were large barbed walls all on their own. Food was scarce, technology was only for the privileged but even then, technological advances were progressing slower than before the nuclear war hit, and bodies were counted, chipped, and checked every so often.

It wasn’t life. It wasn’t living like human beings, human beings with choices, and free will. It was a prison and the walls were not doing well in keeping enemies out, because reality was, they were creating enemies on the inside. That’s actually what lead Clarke to sneak out just two hours ago with a half assed note explaining she would be gone for a few weeks without any indication as to where and a black backpack filled with clothes, books, and other essentials.

“She’ll get over it” Clarke had mumbled as she closed the front door after shutting off the lights. Her mother, Abigail Griffin, was a surgeon. She would probably read the note, run to Thelonious or Shumway, the head of security, and panic. But after failed attempts at locating Clarke, they would pull her back. Probably tell her that Clarke can take care of herself and she will come home when she’s ready, that it probably has to do with her father’s recent passing.

Idiots, Clarke thought. They didn’t know much about her, not enough at least to know why she left. Wells Jaha, Thelonious’ son might have his theories, but he was too caught up in following his thickheaded father’s footsteps to even work up the actual reason.

The train suddenly halted, Clarke had arrived at her stop. Breathing deeply, she stepped off the platform, adjusted her bag over both shoulders and took off sprinting in the direction of the wide open space. It was the last stop, near the outskirts of Arkadia, or well, close to it at least. The moon was full tonight, shinning brightly lighting up her path. She dashed through the dark woods, jumping over fallen trees, watching and listening for sudden movements. She continued to run until she was heaving out of breath. She slowed to a walk but continued to pass through the forest with determination. It was twenty minutes later when she came to the clearing.

The night was still, not a single person in sight. The streetlights across the road flickered brightly as she stood against the cold pole debating whether or not to take those next few steps forward. There was a light glow coming from the wet pavement underneath her, she silently cursed herself for coming all this way only to have the fear sink deep in the pit of her stomach.

_C’mon Clarke, you have to do this._

Taking a deep breath she pushed off and made her way closer to what looked like an abandoned warehouse. It was called the Dropship, headquarters for Skicru. The bricks a burnt red rusting off into a deep brown color, it would have screamed sketchy for anyone else, but she knew what hid behind those large beige garage doors. She knocked on them twice, loud.

“Who are you?”

She turned to the owner of the voice, a nervous expression on her face. She clears her throat before moving closer to the boy with pitch-black hair and goggles resting around his neck.

“Hi, I’m Clarke, I wanted to uhm, talk to Raven Reyes?”

“She’s inside, I’ll call her.” He gave her a short nod before disappearing back to wherever he came from. A beat later, she saw a brown-haired ponytail come into view.

“Clarke?” Raven’s voice grabbed her from her thoughts. A small smile seemed like it would appear on Raven’s face but it disappeared just as quick. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I heard that you guys don’t have a trained medic, and I wanted to offer help.” She spoke confidently standing her ground.

“Where the hell could you have heard that?”

Clarke’s mind drifted to her working at the hospital alongside her mother last week when she saw the fiery Latina curse at a boy called Finn for not coming to see the emergency doctor sooner. She knew all about their situation, witnessed more than one person from that crew come in for the occasional stitching, and quick check for any infections, not to mention the exchanges she hears between doctors on her floor whenever one of them comes in with gashes or broken bones.

“It doesn’t matter, we aren’t interested, find someone else to give charity to.” Raven dismissed her with a wave of the hand and a voice so drowned in disgust at Clarke’s offer, Clarke was surprised Raven didn’t spit at her after the word charity.

“Look, it’s not charity, I’ll keep quiet and not get in anyone’s way. I want to help.” She begged, suddenly feeling the rainy air get thicker and colder.

“Why?” Raven raised an eyebrow and Clarke didn’t know whether it was in confusion or challenging her but she felt at a loss of words, how was she going to explain this. “Why would a council member’s daughter, who has everything she ever wanted, come down here, what is it three hours away from home, to offer help to a bunch of rebels?”

“I don’t agree with them, I never did. I know what kind of people you are, I want to join, I’ll help where and when I can. I won’t say shit to anybody outside or inside the crew about whatever goes on behind those doors.” Clarke replied, choosing to ignore the guilt setting in her stomach.

“What makes you think that the crew will accept you anyways? These people, they won’t let you in, and you running away from mommy won’t help anyone out. Jaha and his friends will come looking for you, and if you lead them here I can assure you that they won’t find you alive when they come.”

“They won’t be looking for me. I just want to fight back, for once.” Clarke's voice wavered a bit at the end, her thoughts returning to days ago, to her father. “You have my word.”

“Your word doesn’t mean shit to these people Clarke,” she paused looking her up and down before sighing, “listen, even if I wanted to help you, it isn’t up to me.”

“Who is it up to then?” Clarke asked with determination swimming in her eyes. Raven stared back at her seeming to internally fight with herself about something, Clarke hoped the winning side was going to be in her favour.

“Follow me.”

Clarke followed, walking behind her through the creaky door hidden on the side of the building, which would be where the goggle boy had come from. She walked in slowly, her feet stepping lightly in the exact same spots Raven stepped on. The sounds of wild chatter and pop rock music filled her ears, it seemed really distant but when Raven pulled open the heavy metal double doors the sounds blared through. Surprisingly not a single soul looked her way as she walked through the open space towards the spiral staircase on the left side, near a couple heavily making out against the wall.

Clarke’s heart was at her throat. She’s heard about Skicru before. She knew exactly who they were, what they were. The stories and rumours circle Arkadia like it’s everyone’s business. Skicru was a group of rebellious people, the town claims them to be teenagers but most of them are in they’re early to mid twenties, basically adults.

Skicru isn’t the type of unruly gang where they can do whatever the hell they want, causing havoc and threatening this society, although they may seem like that to the council members that run the town. Those actions are simply misleading. They are starting a rebellion, a true fight for rights and innocent lives, a rebellion against the council, and when Clarke found out, she rushed to help. Besides not agreeing with more than half the rules they are forced to live by, she had her own personal reasons for going against the rulers including her own mother. She had her reasons and they were hers, and no matter what happened in the next few moments she would stick to her initial purpose.

“Just through here” Raven guided as they reached the top floor of the warehouse. Clarke’s eyes wandered throughout the area, hearing stories about these people and seeing where they live everyday was completely different.

“Why are we here? Who is this up to?” She questioned again, swallowing whatever nerves racked her brain. Raven smirked softly knocking the closed door at the end of the hallway. Within seconds the door swung open revealing strong arms and narrow eyes.

Bellamy Blake.

His face was tan, hair blacker than the night and eyes dark with anger probably because they had disturbed whatever he was doing or maybe because he saw a short blonde who clearly didn’t belong, standing right outside his door.

“This is Clarke, she wants to be our medic since we don’t seem to have an actual trained one” Raven says in a teasing tone staring at Clarke. Bellamy stood still, his facial expression didn’t waver and eyes directly on Clarke. Clarke knew who he was, she heard all about him but never would she have thought that he was the one leading Skicru. When they mentioned him before it was always about how he worked under Marcus Kane, the man who founded Skicru and made it what it is now.

Eyes locked on each other, the space suddenly not wide enough, and the saliva gathering in her throat, Clarke swallowed and awaited the words that were going to come out of his lips.

“What do you want?” His deep voice made her heart beat harder; she had difficulty not jumping at the sound of it.

“I uh, Raven told you.”

“No. I want you to tell me.”

“I want to be your-the uhm medic here, to help you guys with injuries…” she trailed off, knowing that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. He stayed silent, studying her before folding his arms across his chest stepping outside the doorway, closer to her.

“No.” he said, direct and firm. He took a step back and looked at Raven. “Get her out of here, and check if anyone followed her.”

“No one followed me.” Clarke interrupted before Raven could open her mouth. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t expect you to. But I have insight on the council, I know what they think and what they are planning. I am also the best chance you have at an actual medical professional who can deal with problems here instead of having the eyes of the Ark on you when you go to the hospital.”

It was still and the silence grew on. It made her nervous and the look in his eyes told her that wasn’t the right move to make.

“No.”

“Blake don’t be stupid. She's right and you know it.” Raven said from beside Clarke, surprising her. Another long moment of silence later, the look in his eye going from anger to completely blank and unattached.

“Fine. Raven show her where the medical office is, tell her about the rules here and if she’s still alive show her to your room.” He spoke quick and sharp, his eyes never leaving hers. She stared back, not challenging him but wondering. It seemed too easy, he didn’t pry or press her for details about the council just then and he didn’t question why now, why she decided to come to their rescue now. He walked back into the room shutting the door with a slam behind him. Raven must have seen the look of confusion on her face before giving a dry chuckle out loud.

“Blake’s smart Clarke. He knows you wouldn’t have come all this way at this time of night just to fuck us over.”

“How does he know that? What if I am? If he knew that I wouldn't fuck you over, why did he give me shit just now?” The questions rolling off her tongue before she can stop herself.

“Are you trying to fuck us over?”

“No.”

“Okay then, follow me.”

 

The run down of the place seemed simple enough, at first. The rules or 'guidelines' as Raven called them, claiming there are no rules in Skicru, included: doing what is expected of you meaning that if you’re a guard then you follow your duties, if you’re a mechanic then you continue building, fixing, installing whatever it is you needed to do, and if you’re the medic you tend to people’s wounds and injuries, keeping whatever information being exchange in the Dropship to yourself not even whispering about it to anyone else in the crew, and lastly, stay out of Bellamy Blake’s way. His word is final, and his orders are what you follow, no matter what.

Clarke had nodded to every word that left Raven’s lips, even when she wasn’t sure she’d be able to follow the rule-guideline- about staying out of Bellamy’s way. She had only talked to him for about a minute but even then she knew that their paths would cross again and in the same fashion it did tonight, hostile and uninviting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The 100 or the characters.
> 
> There are some parallels between the show, however, the plot is my own.
> 
> Chapters will be up as I write them, but most likely once every week.
> 
> :)

2.

After inspecting the medbay on the Dropship and having her suspicions come true of their lack of proper sterile supplies and equipment, Clarke knew that she had her work cut out for her. Skicru isn’t an underground group of delinquent outcasts threatening the system; they were well organized, structural and knew which battles to fight. However, they were also dauntless and fought harshly, meaning that the medbay would most likely be filled with bodies both alive and on the verge of death at anytime of day, and Clarke would not be prepared.

“This is Harper and Monty,” Raven said pointing at a tall dark blonde-haired girl rolling her eyes at the Asian boy sitting across from her in a dirty blue jacket, who looks like he’s about to pass out. “Harper is actually on the Alpha Squad working under Miller’s supervision, who you’ll meet soon enough, she’s a guard, and Monty works with me downstairs in mechanics but when needed they come up here and deal with minor injuries and bruises.”

“Hey,” Harper said, walking over and acknowledging her with a short nod of the head. Clarke nodded back, and walked through the room, getting another feel for how it must have worked in here without any of the right equipment.

“This place is a safety hazard in itself, there is limited space to have more than two patients in at a time, no anesthetic, no medicine, antibiotics, sterile wipes, rubbing alcohol, there’s not even a proper bench for patients to lie on.” Clarke listed off while kicking the broken, wooden, sad excuse for a bench lightly with the toe of her boot.

“Yeah, well for the past couple of years we basically traded off treating each other with whatever we can find.” Raven mutters moving over to where Monty is now drifting off.

“Which means water and bandages.” Harper adds.

Clarke looked over the room once more. Harper walked past her to help Raven wake Monty up and walk him out. Raven then turned to her raising an eyebrow but Clarke remained neutral not allowing her to see the worry in her eyes.

“Room’s this way.” Raven gestured down the long corridor with her head and began walking ahead. Clarke shut the door to the medbay behind her and quickly followed. Down the long hallway was a large metal door, and Clarke assumed that behind it she would find Raven’s room but instead, it was a larger room in the shape of an octagon with four doors lined up on each side with the hallway continuing right across from her. She spotted Harper shoving Monty through one of the doors on the left, then the boy with the goggles she had seen earlier looked like he was thanking her before they parted ways.

“Sky box,” Raven said simply, “this is just the second floor’s, there’s one on the bottom floor, and one on the third floor near Blake’s room.”

“Oh”

“The main floor is occupied by the guards, second has engineers, mechanics, those who came from farm station, and third is everybody else that don’t really have a specific skill.” Raven continued walking ahead, but before she could turn to whichever door belonged to her, a male voice called out.

“Reyes! Running away from fixing the rover,” he scoffed, “typical.”

“Shut up Wick, I got caught up with something” she replied nodding her head towards Clarke.

“Ah, and you are?” he smiled charmingly and extended his hand but Clarke didn’t get a chance to shake it before he was pushed aside and towards the long hallway they had just entered from.

“Get the fuck out of here Wick, I’ll meet you in a couple of minutes” she muttered shoving him away one last time. His chuckle, so contagious, could be heard as he walked down the hall getting further away from them, and Clarke had to bite back a smile. Raven rolled her eyes and opened the door across the hall from the room where Monty was just shoved.

“This is where you’ll be staying I guess, Blake’s pissed I stepped in when he was being a dick so this is apparently my punishment.” Raven’s monotone voice came to her so easily; Clarke figured that she must be well accustomed to being ridiculed by Bellamy Blake for stepping out of line.

“I thought you said there were no real rules here, why is he imposing punishments?” Clarke raised her eyebrow mocking her, but mostly him.

“You can’t have a functioning society without a way to ensure that humanity can continue to exist.”

Clarke stopped. The parallel between this world and the one she left hours ago seemed more real than she wanted to let herself believe. Looking around the room, being in front of Raven, a girl who she had once known under very different circumstances and knowing what will inevitably happen in a few short months, were all just too much. Before she can ask to leave, to get some air, she heard the girl behind her speak up.

“Well, I better go see what Wick is messing with downstairs. You good?”

“Yeah” Clarke breathed out, barely.

“Ok”

All at once Clarke realized she was now alone.

 _Fuck_ , she thought before setting her backpack down on the very old, ripping at the seams pink couch tucked in a corner. With only one bed in the room, she figured the couch will have to be it for now. Contemplating between changing into some comfortable clothes or screwing this whole plan and running out of here as fast as she can, her gaze fell to the cool metal wrapped around her wrist.

It was her father’s watch, it didn’t work anymore but it had at one point. Once upon a time, when people were okay with denying the oppression they were under, when they refused to believe that a better life can exists, her dad would wear it all the time and before he passed, he placed it in her hand wrapping her fingers around it, and a soft kiss on the forehead.

She twisted it around, feeling the cold touch of the metal scrape along her inner wrist where dried blood had gathered. Before saying goodbye to her childhood home she had removed her chip. It was injected at birth, holding the information of every single beating heart on Arkadian ground. From health stats to a tracking GPS, the chip carried power to Jaha and co better than if Jaha himself was sitting at his desk watching them all from behind his computer. With these chips, he might as well have.

Sighing deeply for what felt like the thousandth time that night, Clarke moved her bag over as a makeshift pillow before laying down on it. She tucked her knees closer to her chest wrapping her arms around herself. She was here now and in truth that was all that mattered. Work started tomorrow, and she knew that Bellamy Blake would be waiting.

Except that morning he wasn’t. Instead as the light in the room grew heavier on her eyelids, she heard voices.

“Stop staring, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Look, no one has come here willingly in a while—”

“Who the hell let you two in anyways?”

The voices that seemed distant were suddenly very clear, but Clarke couldn’t tell how many voices there actually were. She shifted, opening one eye to be faced with Monty, Raven and the boy who still seemed to have those flimsy goggles wrapped around his neck.

“W-what?” Clarke muttered, getting up from the same position she had slept in. Her dark jeans clung tight to her legs, and her shirt sticking to her from sweat. She adjusted her worn out navy jacket and looked back at the three pairs of eyes staring at her.

“Dude, you were right, it is the princess.” Goggles said with a slight smirk, looking slightly buzzed, or high.

“Told you.” Monty nodded his head at her.

“I’m Jasper, this is Monty.”

“She knows who I am, I think”

Clarke gave a slight chuckle, shaking her head letting her hair fall around her shoulders.

“Yeah, we kinda met.” she glanced at Monty before looking over at Raven who was moving across the room picking things up, shifting their spots.

“Making room for the spare bed they're bringing in later, the couch will ruin your back,” Raven said without sparring her a glance. “By the way, we have like five idiots up in medical waiting for you.”

“What time is it?” Clarke asked. It seemed like it was way to early for these people to have caused damage already.

“Ten, maybe, ten thirty, hey don’t you have a watch?” Jasper questioned, pointing at her wrist. Clarke shook her head and even she didn’t know whether it was in amusement or disbelief. Not letting anyone else get a word in, Clarke got up to her full height, and headed out the door to rush to the medbay.

 

Harper was already there when Clarke arrived. She was dealing with a guy who looked no older than thirteen. Clarke watched as the room was barely accommodating the five patients, with one of them waiting outside the door.

“Here, I’ll finish with him. The redheaded girl has a deep cut, wash it thoroughly with—” Clarke shook her head annoyed before clenching her jaw, “water, and stitch it up.”

“I don’t really know how to properly stitch, they usually fall out a couple hours after.”

“Ok, you finish with him, and I’ll deal with her. After you’re done, call Monty, you need to learn how to do this right.”

Harper smiled. It took Clarke back a bit. She had been kind to her yesterday, and the two weirdos from this morning seemed nice enough as well. She didn’t understand why Raven had told her last night that she wouldn’t be accepted here. Of all places, this place should be the most accepting.

The rest of the morning was productive to say the least. After the five patients from earlier were situated, Clarke had about twenty minutes to teach Harper and Monty the basics of stitching, cleaning a wound, and determining whether or not it has been infected, before someone else dropped by with a gash worse than anything Clarke had ever seen before. Soon after, the flow of people was constant with only about a five to seven minute break between each group.

“What the hell are you guys doing that’s causing this many injuries already? No one is outside the Dropship. I didn’t hear anything about a mission from Raven.”

“It’s training season. The guards are all going through new rotations, Alpha has some new recruits taken from lower squads so they have to go through all new training.” Harper answered. Monty had gone down to the kitchen or lunchroom; Clarke had a small peek of it yesterday but knew she couldn’t have located it to save her life.

“I don’t…” Clarke trailed off. She didn’t understand, Alpha, lower squad? She thought battle of the social classes didn’t exist with Skicru.

“Oh, right,” Harper smiled sympathetically, “Well, Alpha Squad is the highest, well trained and active squad for combat. They are lead by Nathan Miller, his dad was a guard, well is a guard back in Arkadia.” Clarke knew about Nathan Miller, his father came charging into a council meeting the day his son took off. No one had known where Nathan had gone, why he left, all they knew was that he suddenly vanished. His father spent the next few months using his power as a guard to find his son but he never did.

“Then there are the Betas, and Gammas, who are kind of like second in command, if for some reason the Alphas don’t make it in time for a mission, they take over. The Deltas were next.”

“Were?”

“Yeah. They were all young; Bellamy got rid of that squad after saving his sister. They were practically children. Kid soldiers. We are not Arkadia.” Harper enunciated, eyes narrowly looking down at the hem of her shirt. She pulled at the strings channeling her anger. Arkadia didn’t necessarily have child soldiers, but they did allow a training process for males and females at the age of fifteen to start early to join the guards. And, they were the ones easily executing innocent lives for mistakes that are just as innocent.

Clarke wasn’t surprised at the hatred these people carried. Each of them had a story, their own version of the injustice they faced. Clarke had hoped she wouldn’t learn any of them, because then knowing will haunt her, knowing will make what she’s going to do that much harder.

“Wait, his sister? Octavia right?” Clarke asked. She had heard all about his situation, obviously, the whole of Arkadia had. Due to the limited water supplies and food, even though they have a greenhouse system planting and growing various edible greens, there were extreme rules regarding repopulation. Each couple would have to be registered to Arkadia, and allowed to conceive one child only. There were promises that as soon as the essentials for life, the technology, the ground itself was completely survivable, then the law would be lifted and repopulation can happen at anyone’s content. Empty promises was what Clarke had repeated to herself every time someone had mentioned it.

“Yeah. I know it’s kind of weird having someone else, like by blood, be connected to you…or I don’t know, it’s different.” Harper trailed trying to find the words to explain a situation they were all unfamiliar with.

“I bet it’s nice,” was all Clarke had said and in that moment Monty walked through the door carrying what looked like three sandwiches and three cups.

“Moonshine.” Monty winked when Clarke’s eyes wandered to the cup.

“We have moonshine and we washed about twelve wounds today with water?”

Monty faltered, almost dropping the sandwiches and the cups. He gave a nervous smile, and the nodded his head furiously. “Ok, ok, I’ll work up a batch specifically for medical use. It won’t be too strong but it will do the job.” He promised, setting down the cups.

Clarke grabbed a sandwich before rolling her eyes at him.

“You better. Have it done by tonight, I have a feeling tomorrow morning we’re going to need as much of it as you can make.” With the way the 'training session' happened today, she didn’t want to think about tomorrow, or even the next few hours that she will be in this room for. Harper and Monty began talking about previous missions, Harper was on the squad that was able to get supplies, radios, and even one of the rovers parked in the garage.

“We build most of the stuff we have, Monty and Raven are amazing with that,” to which a light blush covered Monty’s cheeks, “but sometimes we don’t have enough parts, or food, or anything else really,” she nodded towards their surroundings, “so they send us out. I usually take rotations, guarding the Dropship incase anyone finds us, but this time I got to go back into Arkadia.”

No one asked if she missed it. No one talked about his or her previous time there; it was as if it never existed. It was the unspoken rule, do not discuss who we were or what we saw, if you know what’s good for you. Skicru was a clean slate, for _everyone_ , Clarke hoped so anyways.

The rest of the evening went on, they actually ended up having a lot more patients than they did in the morning. It was only when two patients ended up in a fist fight, one of their wounds bleeding out onto the floor that Clarke had had enough. She called Harper to break up the fight and take over for a few minutes.

She walked out of the room fuming. She really didn’t know where to go from the medbay so she left as if she was going back to Raven’s room. When she got to the skybox, she took the narrow hallway out and into the wide-open space similar to the one on the ground floor, the one she saw when she first entered. The staircase was to the left as it had been on the ground floor also. She took the steps two at a time. When she reached the third floor she was slightly lost. She looked around at the different hallways and possibilities.

“You lost?” a guy with shaggy brown hair and with what would be described as an all-American boy smile, a few centuries ago, asked.

“Uh yeah, I’m looking for Bellamy Blake?” she asked, glancing around him hoping the bastard would show his face.

“He’s training some guards, I’m Finn by the way, you’re Clarke right?” he asked, the smile never leaving his face. She just stared at him, she knew him. He was the guy that came to the hospital with Raven when she cursed at him for not getting himself checked out sooner.

“Yeah, can you take me to him?”

“You don’t seem like his type, Princess, he’s into brunettes.” Finn must have been joking, or something, the smile on his face turning into an amused grin. Clarke scoffed lightly, he may seem like he has a sense of humour and possibly even a kind heart, but she was not in the mood.

“I’ll find him myself,” she announced before taking off in a random direction.

“Other way.”

She glanced over her shoulder; Finn was standing, still amused, and with his hands in his pockets and his head tilted towards the hallway on the other side of the room. He chuckled lightly and began walking in that direction.

“You don’t seem like the kind of person who would just show up here in the middle of the night demanding to help the underprivileged.” Finn raised an eyebrow at her as they walked side by side a few feet apart.

“You don’t seem like the condescending asshole that would help me find where the biggest asshole is.” she bit back but Finn had just chuckled louder this time.

“Raven was right, you’ll be fine here.”

Clarke felt her heart beat louder. She felt a slight sense of pride and gratitude for Raven, the girl was beyond loyal, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was the sweetest person Clarke had ever met, besides maybe Monty, who seemed incredibly innocent.

“Right here,” Finn pushed open a large door revealing five rows of young men and women, standing in formation, arms behind their back, legs apart, eyes focused on the front.

“Ok, we just showed you how it’s done. Partner up and practice!” a loud deep shout rang through the room. Clarke stepped in further to see Bellamy give the order, then talk quietly to the guard standing next to him. It was Nathan Miller; they seemed to be talking about something important. Nathan had his eyes squinting in concern, arms crossed at the chest looking torn, but Bellamy looked stronger if it was even possible. He seemed extremely determined, not a hint of fear in his eyes.

Nathan looked up at her in that moment then he indicated to Bellamy she was there with a slight whisper. Bellamy looked up to meet her eyes this time and they seemed angry now.

“Don’t worry, he’s pissed at everyone, all the time, but that was the quickest death glare I’ve ever seen, so maybe yeah, he hates you.” Finn spoke her thoughts out loud, and if she weren’t pissed at the condition of the medbay, or at the fact that Bellamy thought he had any right to be angry with her when she had done nothing wrong, she would have laughed at Finn and his attempt at being funny.

She walked to the front of the room, ignoring the way the place fell silent, and how the trainees’ lingering gazes followed her. Bellamy turned his body to face hers, strong arms now crossed over his chest, face blank.

“You’re still here.” he stated, brown eyes focused on her blue ones. He didn’t seem surprised or annoyed. Almost calm, almost like he didn’t care.

“Your medical unit sucks. There are no proper sanitized equipment or supplies.” She remained calm as well, glad that her voice was steady and her glare unfazed.

“It’s what we've had for the past ten years, it’s what we will continue to use.”

“You can’t be serious, it’s a safety hazard all on its own.”

“Relax Princess,” he said louder stepping closer to her. She glanced at Nathan whose eyes were now narrow, and his smirk growing by the second. She was nervous to peek behind her to see the rest of them staring at her. “We’re fine, besides, I don’t have time to sanction a mission to grab some bandages just because you haven’t been able to make do with what you have.”

Clarke knew this would happen. The way he said that stupid nickname, that for some reason everyone has taken to call her by, he threw the status she had in Arkadia in her face. If she was pissed before she didn’t notice because now she was furious. She took another step closer to him, inches from his face, her chest a breath away from his, and this only made him glare down at her harder.

“Listen, think what you want about me, but with the way they keep getting hurt,” she pointed at the group behind her, “you won’t have anyone left to send out for missions, or supplies, or war.” she resisted the urge to poke him in the chest. “You care about these people, your people, show it.”

With those words, she turned on her heel and walked away from him towards a very entertained Finn. She glanced at the guards who now stood in the middle of the room unmoving; they looked back at her with a look of…hope? Clarke didn’t know and she didn’t let herself think too much of it. Just before reaching the door she turned to face Bellamy again. He was already looking at her, watching her walk away. He shifted from one foot to another, still holding her eyes.

“And for God’s sake, go easy on them. We can’t keep up in medical.”

There was amusement in his eyes now, and a hint of a smirk threatening to show, but his face turned blank once more when she pulled the door open and walked through.

“Get back to work!” she heard him yell as she shut the door behind her.

“That went well,” Finn yawned, stretching his arms out, behind her. She didn’t even bother answering him.

_Fuck Bellamy Blake, and fuck his brown eyes._


	4. Chapter 4

3.

The night continued to be a shit show. It seemed Bellamy didn’t take her suggestion to go easier on the Alpha trainees, so Clarke ended up having to stitch, clean, and wrap more arms and legs then she could count. By the time the last patient left the room, Harper was bidding Clarke an exhausted goodbye. Monty had left them after lunch to go work on the moonshine and he was also needed to help Raven rewire the radios, so it was just them working.

“Night, Harper.” Clarke whispered back, the two girls left in opposite directions. Clarke fell onto her rickety rolling single bed that was perched up against the wall next to Raven’s. The mattress wasn’t springy but it was better than the couch. There was an actual pillow this time and she sighed happily gathering her mess of a hair to the side before putting her head down.

She wished her eyes would close and that sleep would come easily. She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to replay the image, the last image of her dad before he was taken away from her. Since the day was hectic she hoped she would have tired herself out but that wasn’t the case.

“CLARKE!” A shout came from behind the door causing her to jolt up. Nerves ran through her spine at how frantic the voice sounded. She opened the door to find Jasper, eyes wide, breath coming out heavy.

“Jasper?”

“You have to come now!” he all but yelled in her face. She glanced around the skybox, to find that other doors were open, some people stood around not knowing what’s going on, others looked panicked.

“It’s Octavia, she’s Bellamy’s sister, listen, there’s no time to explain” he grabbed her arm and they ran down the hallway. He pulled her quickly in different directions, up the stairs, down many other turns before finally bringing her to a new room she hadn’t seen before. From her spot in the hall she could see their leader’s dark hair springing up in every direction, he was slightly pacing in place but the worry on his face is what made her heart jump.

She walked in to find a pale girl with dark hair lying on the bed with her eyes closed. Her wrists facing upwards, a cloth pressed up against each one was dark red with blood. She assumed that they were once white. She rushed to her side applying pressure to both wrists. She repeated the movements, pressing harder on each wrist allowing for the blood to stop, she didn’t notice Bellamy move from his previous spot to now sitting on a wooden chair at his sister’s side, closer to her head.

He watched Clarke, eyes angry but for once she knew they weren’t directed at her, they were directed at whoever did this, and she couldn’t help but think if his anger was directed at himself too. She turned to the girl in front of her. She looked to be sixteen maybe seventeen, how the hell did this happen?

“Here, apply pressure to this wrist,” she held out the right one to Bellamy, “I’m going to check the other one,” his fingers brushed hers as he took her spot pressing the cloth closer to his sister’s wrist.

Clarke very carefully peeled back the other one she was holding, she saw a deep long cut running four fingers away from the bottom of Octavia’s palm. The severity of the cut wasn’t what caught Clarke’s attention; it was the yellowish bumpy skin around it, the disgusting pus that came out of it with the most horrifying stench.

“How did these happen?” She asked Bellamy, but her eyes were still on Octavia. She shifted her gaze to Jasper who looked down unsure if he should be the one to speak at all. Miller walked in just then.

“I got everyone to go back to their rooms. Finn said he didn’t know what she was doing until she did it. He didn’t—”

“What happened?” Clarke cut him off asking more sternly now.

“She slit her wrists,” Jasper spoke up, if Clarke was shocked she didn’t show it. Typical, to think she believed that Bellamy Blake was able to keep these people safe was stupid. He was notorious and stubborn, from refusing to acknowledge her plea for a better-equipped medical room to denying her suggestion to keep injuries to a minimum.

“With what?”

“A knife.” Jasper murmured, eyes shifting.

“Bring it to me.” Clarke said, her eyes narrowing down at Octavia. Jasper ran out but not until Bellamy gave him a quick nod. Clarke resisted the urge to roll her eyes, their loyalty to him was incredible, considering.

“Nathan, get Monty to give you whatever batch of moonshine he’s made. I need to try to disinfect the cuts as much as I can.” Miller looked at her slightly taken back, she raised her eyebrow in confusion and slightly questioning him, but he shook his head and followed her orders. She dared a glance back at Bellamy who was looking down at his little sister, eyebrows furrowed.

“She’s going to be fine, it’s just slightly infected, let me take a look at the other one,” he pulled the cloth back a bit revealing the cut to be in a state much worse than the other one, the bleeding had finally stopped though.

 _Shit_ , she thought. _Nathan needed to hurry up with that moonshine._

“Funny, didn’t think you were the type of person to let a bunch of kids run around with knifes.” she jabbed, furious.

“Shut up.” his firm voice was laced with anger mimicking his face.

“Why?” she questioned, eyes glaring back at his, “So you can continue to silently wear your pride thinking you’re better than everyone here?”

“No Princess, you seem to be covering that just fine.”

“I never pretended to be anything I’m not, Bellamy. I was just trying to help—”

“We don’t need your help!” he got up quickly kicking the chair he was sitting on back. His eyes grew darker, and his lips turned in a scary scowl. She could see the faint rises of his chest as he breathed heavily. He shook his head trying to shake away his frustration and stepped closer to the bed, his hand lightly brushing Octavia’s hair to the side and tucking it behind her ear.

“Got it,” Jasper exclaimed also breathing heavily, followed by Miller. They placed both items they brought in on the bed next to Octavia’s waist. Clarke opened up the jar of moonshine and poured it over each wrist. She ripped up a piece of the cloth sheet by the edge of the bed and used it to clean her wounds. After wrapping them up with the fabric, she picked up the knife inspecting it.

The three boys in the room remained quiet. Bellamy’s eyes still on his sister’s limp body, and the other two watching Clarke with intensity.

“What is it?” Miller asked her.

“I think it’s just not clean, and when she cut herself whatever was on it caused an infection.”

“Will she be okay?” Jasper asked, his goggles not around his neck this time, but clutched in his hands. Clarke opened her mouth to lie, to say yes but the truth was without the right antibiotics she didn’t know if Octavia would be alright. She wasn’t able to lie or tell the truth because in the next moments Octavia’s body jerked up. Whitish clear foam was spilling from her lips, her body shaking.

“Get her on her side” she yelled out and the four of them rushed to her. Bellamy cradled his sister’s head lightly, some of the saliva and foam spilling on his hand. Miller grabbed her shoulders and Jasper her hips pulling her over to her right side. Clarke stood in between Miller and Bellamy lifting Octavia’s eyelids examining her pupils. _Shit._

After a few more seconds, Octavia calmed down. Her body went limp once more and she stopped seizing.

“She’s stable for now, her heart beat is a little fast but it will calm down also. I don’t know if she’ll be lucky next time,” Clarke went back and lifted the knife up, “The knife isn’t just dirty, it’s covered in poison or something toxic, unless we have the right antidote she won’t stabilize the next time she seizes.”

“Fuck,” Bellamy got up, fists clenched at his side, “stay with her, we’ll be back with the antidote.” He told Clarke, and then Miller was on his feet too.

“No, you stay here with her too, make sure no one comes up here and engineering is still working on getting through the firewall,” Bellamy said to him, “Jasper you’re coming with me.”

Jasper nodded quickly, then walked behind him nervously shifting his goggles from one hand to the other. Clarke didn’t know what Bellamy was going to do, she didn’t know what he was talking about when he gave those orders to Miller, but she knew that if she wanted his trust and if she wanted the people of Skicru’s trust she had to follow their leader’s orders, especially if they did it themselves without batting an eye.

“Where’s he going?” She asked. Miller looked at her seeming to realize that she was still there. Instead of answering her, he took the spot Bellamy was previously occupying sitting on the chair next to Octavia. Clarke knowing better but somehow always choosing to do the opposite, moved away from the door and closer to the edge of the bed.

“If I wasn’t here, if I couldn’t help her, where would you have taken her?” it seemed like the right question to ask because Miller’s eyes shot up, “He can’t take her to the hospital in the Ark because they’ll be killed on sight, and no one can help her here because they wouldn’t know what to do.”

Miller remained silent; his eyes focused on the space on the wall ahead of him. Clarke was slowly piecing it together, but she was missing something. Skicru couldn’t have lasted this long without a proper doctor. The way those kids were walking in and out of the room today, yes maybe Bellamy was trying to make a point, but there were too many bodies for just Harper and Monty to deal with. Plus those two proved that they couldn’t handle anything more than scrapes and bruises.

“Nathan, if—”

“It’s Miller, no one calls me Nathan.” he gritted. She stared at him for a minute too long because he was squirming under her gaze, shoulders tensing up even more.

“Your dad called you that,” she whispered, understanding. His whole body went tense now, and finally he met her stare. He didn’t nod or shake his head but Clarke already knew the answer. “You probably don’t know this, or maybe you do, or maybe you don’t want to know,” Clarke trailed off, “but he fought for you.”

Miller’s clenched jaw fell slack, his eyes seemed lighter, his posture wasn’t as stiff as it was seconds ago but still there was something blocking everyone, keeping them at bay. His guard was still up and Clarke felt for him. This time he nodded, but still remained silent. And this time, Clarke didn’t mind.

\----

For the next while Clarke alternated between checking Octavia’s cuts, cleaning them, wrapping them back up, and wondering about Skicru, her mother, and life back at Arkadia. She didn’t speak to Miller again after their brief not quite-emotional-enough-to-be-a-heart-to-heart conversation, but she didn’t mind. Miller was someone who she found that silence with, was never awkward or worrisome. She glanced around the room now; it must be Octavia’s.

The walls were bare, but she had a beat up oak dresser, and what looked like a matching bookshelf. They were placed side by side against the far wall. Clothes were dripping out of the drawers, and she had a good collection of books stacked on the shelves. Clarke was tempted to take a look at them but she felt like she was crossing the boundaries. She was browsing through the unconscious girl’s room whom she’s never even met before.

Thankfully, Bellamy came back half an hour later. Octavia hadn’t had any seizures or woken up although the amount of blood she lost will make her weak if—when she does wake up though. Behind him a man with tattoos on the right side of his face, over his forehead and along his check came into view. He had dark hair as well, and a lot of it, a long beard and a dangerous look in his eye. He took one glance at Octavia, then the knife by the corner of the bed near her foot, before pulling out a small rusty metal box with several tiny vials.

“Who’s this?” Clarke asked. The man finally turned to her only for a moment before looking back at Bellamy who nodded his head.

“I’m Nyko. I will help ‘Tavia.” he said, his phrasing seemed broken, like he was unfamiliar with the language. Clarke noticed his clothes then too. He was wearing different types of materials. What looked to be fur and leather, and weird stretchy fabric? The colors seemed off too, while everyone in Arkadia and on the Dropship wore colors that seemed dull like greys, blues, blacks, Nyko was wearing different shades of green and brown.

“How are you..?” Clarke didn’t get the chance to form her question because Nyko was already walking towards Octavia. He lifted a vial filled with dark green flakes before taking the jar of moonshine. He sprinkled some of the contents into the jar before swirling it and bringing it to Octavia’s lips. Bellamy helped him pour the liquid down her throat wiping away any excess with the sheets lying on the side.

“She will be ok.” Nyko said, placing his metal box back in the pouch on his shirt or jacket, Clarke couldn’t tell, and walking out the door. This time Miller followed him out, and Clarke stared down at the young girl’s body.

“Who was that?” she asked Bellamy. He stayed silent, observing his sister. Clarke was getting tired of these people ignoring her, thinking she was stupid or useless or not worth an explanation. She opened her mouth to say those exact words to Bellamy when Jasper walked in again.

“Hey Clarke, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

 

Clarke was lead back down to the second floor and into a large room that looked three times the size of Raven’s. There were tables beaming with shinny metal placed strategically along side the various operational switches and buttons that were too many for Clarke to count. There were chairs, plush with rolling balls on the bottom, and bright ceiling lights all over. However, it wasn’t the futuristic feeling of being in that room that caught her attention, it was the massive computer screen, the five smaller screens and the insane amount of files and paperwork that was piled up high.

“Hey, Clarke, there’s something you’ll want to see” Raven said coming into view. Clarke felt Bellamy cross his arms behind her; they both stepped further into the room. Raven sat down on one of the chairs before typing away furiously at the keyboard in front of her.

“What’s going on?” Bellamy’s deep voice rang closer to Clarke’s ear.

“We were working on getting the firewall down on the Ark’s security system since the upgrade, when there was an interception, we located it to be coming from Mecha Station.”

The biggest screen before them flashed white then her mother’s face filled it up. Her bloodshot eyes were the only indication of sadness over her daughter’s departure. Other than that her face was somber, almost disappointed and brown hair pinned up neat. Thelonious Jaha and Shumway were on either side of her. She stood tall behind a podium, hands placed in front of her.

“This is a message to my daughter, Clarke Griffin,” her mother’s raspy voice filled the room. Clarke chocked back a sob, her own eyes watering. She missed her mom. Yet, she couldn’t stay behind and watch her ruin this world. A world that was already suffering and lacking. Clarke stood taller; arms at her side, pushing the tears back behind her eyelids and stared at her mother’s face.

“Clarke, if you’re hearing this or seeing this, you need to come home. We can work it all out, just come home Sweetie,” her voice broke, she took a deep breath before continuing, “to anyone who has seen her or finds her, bring her home. There will be a great reward to show our appreciation. Thank you.”

The screen went black. Raven looked at Clarke with wary eyes.

“It was broadcasted all over Arkadia, in homes, on the street, stores, anyplace with a connection or a router.”

“Who else here has seen this?” Bellamy asks Raven, his tone smooth and his presence demanding. Clarke glanced behind her to find him already staring at the back of her head.

“How much do you think we can get for her?” Finn’s voice rang. They all shifted their gaze towards the humored looking guy with his feet up on the table leaning back against his chair. Clarke didn’t hear what Raven’s answer was or what Bellamy said to Finn because she bolted out of the room. She dashed through the halls, slightly bumping into some of the guards on duty.

“Clarke!”

“What?” she turned to face Finn.

“Sorry I was only joking,” he said with a small apologetic smile.

“I know Finn, it’s not you ok.” she tried smiling back but she couldn’t force it. She wanted to tell Finn that she was fine and that she was going to check on Octavia before heading to bed but Bellamy came up behind him.

“Collins, go back to engineering.” his voice could cut glass. He eyed Finn until he left, then turned to face Clarke.

“I’m starting to think you’re more trouble then you’re worth,”

“What do you want from me?” her arms crossed at her chest, and a newfound sense of courage filled her veins.

“I want the truth, why are you here?” she watched him, really watched him, taking in the faint freckles scattered across his cheeks that are only vibrant in actual daylight, she assumed so anyways. Watched his eyes flicker between hers trying to figure her out, she watched and recalled how his anger and worry for his sister made him look more mature, more wounded.

“The truth is I’m here because I believe that you fight for justice, for basic civil rights, that you care enough about people to not sentence them to die for crimes they have no control over. I am here because I thought that you stood for something but you know what Blake? You’re a fucking joke, this whole place, you don’t give a shit about anyone or anything but yourself and your sister.” Clarke spit out, she didn’t notice that she had stepped closer to him, but she did see the affects of her words. His jaw clenched, the muscles on his arms tightening underneath his t-shirt.

“Brave Princess,” he snarled stepping even closer to her. Ignoring his words, she narrowed her eyes and spoke again.

“Look, I get that you don’t trust me. I know seeing my mom up there and knowing that it’s a threat to have me here but she won’t find out about it. I gave you my word. I’m not here to screw with you Bellamy. You hate to admit it but you need me, you need someone whose been on the other side,” she said softly now, the anger and hurt draining her, “and I need you too, all of you. We need to end this Bellamy.”

The air around them got thick as they stood toe to toe in silence. They stared at each other. She hoped her words struck a cord with him, that he would see her as more than a privileged blonde wannabe rebel from Arkadia.

“Ok.” he said, eyes lingering on her face a moment longer. She couldn’t quite read the expression on his face, but she didn’t feel like figuring it out anyway. She was tired, and seeing her mother today was unexpected. She needed to process all of this.

 

She made it back to Raven’s room after leaving Bellamy to check on Octavia once more. She finally placed her head on the pillow, she glanced down at her watch, and it stayed still, stuck on 1:20. Clarke knew that if anything it was probably 1:20 in the morning. Seconds later Raven walked in and plopped on her own bed kicking off her shoes.

“Seeing your mom today must suck.”

“Yeah.” Clarke mumbled, her eyes still staring at her dad’s watch.

“I know you remember that day, very clearly, but maybe what you don’t remember is the way your mom was looking at you after the surgery was over. I’ve never seen someone love the way your mother loves you Clarke.” Raven whispered, lying down on her own bed.

“You were in pain, you had just gone through three hours of surgery with no anesthetic. You don’t know what you saw.” Clarke muttered back.

“So you think she doesn’t love you?”

“You know what, I think I need to get some air.” Clarke shoved the sheets aside and got up. She ignored Raven’s calls and walked out of the room nearly bumping into Finn who looked like he was about to knock on their door. She ignored him too, making it down the stairs and through the first door she could find, she felt a rush of cool air hit her.

She finally breathed deeply once she stepped outside the building. She was on the opposite side of the warehouse. The sky was darker here; there were tiny twinkles of light shining down. She secretly hoped for a wishing star, she felt stupid for thinking it but maybe it can solve all her problems. She wanted to scream so loud. Her mother was looking for her, her place here was undetermined, and the way Arkadia was progressing she’d be surprised if they make it the two months her father had predicted.

“Whoa Princess, you’re fast.”

“My name is Clarke, fucking use it,” she snapped not bothering to look behind her. Finn only chuckled, then came to stand next to her staring up into space as well.

“You don’t like being called Princess do you?” She didn’t respond, instead continued to stare up at the sky wondering what living on space and away from all these problems would be like. They probably would face the same situations up there too.

“I came by to see if you were ok,” he said glancing down at her before reverting his gaze at the sky.

“How noble,”

“I try,” he hits her shoulder with his own lightly, playfully, and Clarke wondered what it would be like if she had met Finn under different circumstances. He seemed like the kind of light heartedness she would have loved in her life.

“I kind of wanted to be alone,” she tells him, but doesn’t take another glance at him or a step away from him. He nods and steps back but not before calling over his shoulder that if she decides to run to tell him where she’s going so that he can get in on that reward. She bites her lip to hold back a laugh.

She hangs back a while longer before the need for sleep kicks in. Raven might have knocked out by now so she would be able to avoid any awkwardness with her. Turning around, she felt eyes on her. She looked up to find Bellamy leaning against the railing of a balcony to what looked like a room, most likely his. He had a cigarette between his lips as he took a drag and blew it out. He was watching her intently, and she felt small under his gaze.

A flicker of something behind him caught her attention, it was a slender feminine figure walking around his room, and if she looked closely she would find that the girl was a brunette.


	5. Chapter 5

4.

Clarke woke up a little later in the day. Raven was gone and the entire second floor was quiet, which should’ve been surprising but it wasn’t.

That wasn’t the only difference about her morning, in fact, Clarke wasn’t surprised to find that everyone had heard about Octavia and were avoiding Bellamy at all costs. Or that when she was walking to the medical room, she ran into Miller who mumbled that he didn’t mind if she called him Nathan blushing slightly, instead, she was surprised to find that the medbay had a brand new bench.

The old broken one was nowhere to be found, in it’s place a wider, sturdier blue one with plush cushions for comfort. She looked to the side to find a collection of larger vials and jars filled with various plants and liquids lined up on the counter while the compartment near the sink was filled with bandages and wraps. Next to all that was an even larger jar of moonshine.

“Some of the guys from Alpha Squad came in this morning, they put in the final touches,” Harper’s voice rang pointing to the counter and the sink. Clarke remained silent, completely shocked.

“Doc!” Finn called as he swaggered into the room.

Clarke turned to him and smiled, “Don’t tell me you did this?”

Harper raised her eyebrow at both of them scoffing, “No, Bellamy did.”

Clarke froze, “Bellamy did this?”

“Yeah, brought in the bench himself.” Harper stood quiet, squinting at Clarke for a second before retreating to the opposite side of the room. Bellamy did this? And he had cadets from Alpha Squad set it up? Clarke was torn between wallowing in her confusion silently or prying answers from Harper. Instead she chose to do what she’s been doing recently when her throat dries up and air can’t seem to make it to her lungs.

“I better go check on Octavia” Clarke backed away from the room and turned on her heel, Finn following close behind.

“That’s actually why I came to you, she’s awake, says she feels better but Bellamy wants to be sure,” Finn held the door open for her once they got up the stairs.

Inside Octavia’s room, the young girl was perched up in bed, arms out in front of her and bright blue eyes blazing as she spoke to her brother. They both looked up when Clarke walked in.

“Hey, I’m Clarke,” she said stepping closer to Octavia, “do you mind if I check your wrists?” Octavia opened her mouth but Bellamy spoke instead,

“No, she doesn’t.”

Clarke nodded, stepping closer and gingerly taking Octavia’s arms placing them lightly on her lap as she began to unwrap them. They looked better, she pressed the surrounding area and the dark haired girl let out a sharp gasp.

“Yeah, it’s a bit tender, don’t worry you’ll be good as new in a few days but you’ll have two scars.”

“It’s okay, adds to the bad ass status,” Octavia smirked, but that only fouled Bellamy’s mood further.

“You think it’s a joke?” he questioned moving to his sister’s side.

“Get out!” she gritted, unwilling to look at him.

“O, you’re going to have to talk to me about this soon, whether you like it or not.” His voice was a bit softer, still low and laced with frustration but speaking with his sister, Clarke knew that Bellamy was more aware of his emotions. With that, he walked out without a glance at Clarke. Finn mumbled something about siblings and the reason why we don’t have them anymore under his breath before turning to Clarke.

“Hey, you wanna have lunch with me later?” he asked grinning. Clarke’s eyes met his and her heart stuttered.

“Uh, I’ll probably be working through lunch today since I got a late start, you know?” she reasoned turning back to the girl in front of her. Octavia had an eyebrow raised and a hint of a smile threatening to spill on her face.

“That’s fine, I’ll bring lunch to you” he winked before leaving as well. Clarke wanted to protest, say no that it was she was okay but even then Finn seemed like the relentless type of bad boy who kept coming back no matter what was said.

“Seems like you have yourself a boyfriend already and you’ve been here what? Three days?”

“Two actually, and he’s not my boyfriend” Clarke smirked back at her. She rewrapped the wounds and told her to drink and eat larger meals today because of the lack of blood in her system. Octavia nodded along to her instructions leaning her head back against her headboard.

“You’re not going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?” Clarke knew what but she feigned wonder. If the girl wanted to speak she would have, and Clarke knew that sometimes your secrets are all you have left.

“You know what.” Octavia deadpanned, and Clarke grimaced.

“Why did you slit your wrists?” Clarke asked.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was doing it to protect someone?” Octavia asked sliding down her bed now resting her head against her pillow. Clarke walked over and placed the covers over her.

“You Blakes don’t seem like the type” she joked and her grin went full-blown when she heard Octavia laugh.

“He would’ve done the same thing if the roles were reversed” Octavia said, her voice sounding distant then, and her eyes wistful. Clarke wanted to end the conversation there, if she continued to figure out who this young girl was, if she found out what horrors Octavia faced while being told she had no right to live, then she would become attached and her plan would fail with her.

But instead, she asked, “What roles?”

“If he was in love,” Octavia’s eyes rolled back as she shifted closer into her pillow. Her breathing slowly evening out and Clarke knew that the conversation went on for a minute too long.

\----

“Finn, I told you I would be working through lunch,” Clarke said harshly moving around him to grab one of the vials. He rolled his eyes, perched up on the counter, twirling a toothpick in his mouth.

“Which is why I came here,” he answered simply. Clarke thought about this for a minute getting an idea.

“You’re right, I do need a break and some food.” she smiled brightly giving the vial to Harper to finish up with the patient before taking a seat next to Finn. Their thighs pressed flush against each other but Clarke ignored that grabbing a sandwich from the bag next to him.

“So, how did Bellamy get all this stuff?” she asked, “I understand you grow your own food, or find a way to get, but with these supplies, I mean I asked him and he gave me the impression that they were hard to find”

“They were, but like everything here, clothes, food, cigarettes, alcohol, we manage to get through inside people in Arkadia that worked for Marcus Kane, you know him?”

Clarke nodded and Finn continued, “Yeah well he has some inside crew that has been working for him for years. They supply us with everything,”

“Even the medicinal plants?”

“No, the plants and antidotes here come from somewhere else,” he answered taking a bite of his own sandwich. Clarke raised an eyebrow at him but Finn just smirked shaking his head, “Nah, sitting next to me and eating won’t get me to spill anything, Princess.”

She resisted the urge to huff but a sigh did escape her lips. She hopped off the counter rolling up her sandwich and placing it in his hand.

“Thanks for the food but we just got a new wave,” she jerked her chin towards the door and walked away.

“C’mon, just ‘cause I won’t tell you where Blake got this shit from?” he questioned almost whining. Clarke laughed this time, really laughed, and Finn found himself smiling too.

“No, I really do have to get back to work.” Finn smiled wider and then hopped off the counter too.

“Ok Princess, but you owe me. We’ll continue this later,”

Clarke bit her lip hard, almost drawing blood. She turned around and walked outside the medbay to call the next patient lined up against the wall in to be examined, instead she ran into Bellamy’s hard chest. Her forehead rammed against his collarbone and she moved back losing her balance a bit but Bellamy remained still as can be.

“You said you had some information about the council,” he spoke, eyes on her. Clarke rubbed her head wincing, but she nodded anyway, “Meet me in engineering in five minutes” he demanded now taking a glance over her shoulder at Finn then leaving. Clarke turned to Harper who only rolled her eyes in understanding, she had to hold the fort down for a couple of minutes. Rubbing her head again, Clarke moved as quickly as she can.

Finding the engineering room wasn’t as challenging as she thought it would be. The layout of the Dropship was easy to understand, she was getting used to it already. The only floor she was unfamiliar with was the third floor but she makes a habit of avoiding it. Run ins with Bellamy is not what she wants especially when every time they talk it ends in harsh words.

“We need to lower their defences, we do that by getting through their security system undetected, once that’s down then we have insight on everything. Their next move, their army numbers, their citizens, anything that Jaha sees, we will too.” She heard the familiar deep voice of their leader. Bellamy could command the wall to move with that voice of his.

Clarke paused outside the door listening in.

“We can’t do much without the algorithm. Her father helped create the server; she’d probably know how to deactivate it. I know Sinclair had a hand at it but he wouldn’t be able to tell us anything without getting caught.” she heard Raven say then typing on keys. Sinclair had been the engineer working alongside her father, they discovered the various flaws in Arkadia’s network and fixed them, they set up the entire database that carries anything and everything Arkadia related. If Sinclair was in on Skicru’s plans, if he knew them and was helping them, then was her father in on it too?

“She’ll be able to help you, apparently that’s all she wants to do” Bellamy sneered.

“You don’t believe her?”

“No.”

Clarke finally stepped through the door. She glanced at Raven who sat on the chair with her mouth a gap knowing that their conversation was heard. She tucked her hands in the pockets of her red worn out sweater and leaned back in her chair. Clarke didn’t chance turning her gaze to meet Bellamy’s, who she was sure was already looking at her.

“My dad worked with Sinclair, I can tell you what I heard and what I know about how the security system works, but I do know more,” she started, she flinched looking around the room, it seemed clear that they were the only three there.

“My dad,” she began, “uh, my dad found out, before he died, that there was sight of life beyond the walls. That there were other people, survivors of the nuclear war” she paused, Raven became still but what made her stop was Bellamy. Cool and confident now turned to stiff and wary as he stared her down.

“He wanted to come out, to tell the other citizens that life exists past the walls, that we should tear the walls down and join them, welcome them. But,”

“The council wasn’t having it,” Raven finished shaking her head in disbelief, “See your sister was right” she said to Bellamy. Clarke was confused, and then suddenly it all came together.

“Oh my God! That man, Nyko?” Clarke exclaimed, “He’s from beyond the wall?”

Bellamy didn’t move, neither did Raven.

“He knew how to heal Octavia, he had those herbs! That’s how you got those vials in medical?” she questioned still in shock that she actually had contact with someone from the outside, “What you’re not going to say anything?”

“Yes, he’s from beyond the wall. We’ve had a relationship with them for a while.” Raven finally spoke up, her tone slightly dismissing. Clarke refused to let this go.

“So that’s where you go when injuries get so bad and you can’t go back to Arkadia?”

Again, neither of them spoke up. Angry, she crossed her arms across her chest. She waited a second longer but when no one spoke; she turned on her heel preparing to leave. A hand caught her wrist.

She turned back around facing Bellamy, “If you want my help then I deserve some answers.”

“You don’t deserve anything, you’re lucky Reyes told you what she did. In case you’ve forgotten, your mother is a fucking councilwoman. You came here all on your own Princess” He was still holding her wrist, his grip getting tighter with each sentence spoken. She swallowed the hurt and hoped it didn’t show on her face.

“Fine.” she muttered, looking between the two of them. Bellamy having just realized he was still holding her wrist let it drop to her side quickly, as if her touch scorched him. She tried swallowing down the hurt again. She wanted to scream at both of them. Tell them to go fuck themselves and that she was leaving as soon as she was done “helping”.

It was clear that Bellamy wasn’t warming up to her as she had previously thought, it was clear that the people here still had some issues with her even though some of them were kind, and it was clear that no matter how much she tried, how many wounds she stitched, how much information about the council she gave, that she will never be Skicru.

They got to work then. Raven called Monty, Wick and a guy named Bryan over for reinforcement. Together they managed to figure out how to get through the firewall blocking intruders from entering the Arkadian database. Five hours later, they were working through the disconnection algorithm for disabling the security system so they can hack into it. Half the time Clarke had no clue what they were going on about, but she told them what she knew, the long sophisticated words that she remembered her father speaking during dinner, anything and everything she could remember, she told them.

“Ok, were almost there,” Raven said leaning closer to Bryan to get a better look at his computer screen. Clarke stood back watching them, she could feel Bellamy’s eyes on her but she wasn’t going to give him any satisfaction. Looking over at him would tell him that she was aware of his intimidating persona and that she feared it. She didn’t fucking fear anything, especially when it comes to Bellamy Blake.

“That’s why your dad died?” he asked suddenly, “He wanted to tell people about the others?”

“Pretty much,” she replied still not looking at him. The four brainiacs at the front were too caught up in working out the code to bother listening to them. Clarke continued to stare as they worked diligently.

“So you’re trying to finish what daddy started?” he asked and although he meant for it to be mocking it came out with less teasing and more accusing. She scoffed before turning to finally face him.

“It’s interesting Blake, really, how you think it’s easy for you to judge me but when I say a word about you, you tell me to shut up. You act like I don’t know what you’ve been through? Get over yourself asshole, we’ve all dealt with shit.”

Now the four at the front of the room who were tucked away staring at computer screens were looking over at them. Bellamy’s face showed no emotion but then a hint of a smile appeared before transforming into a smirk.

“Guess so,” he said simply, walking over to Wick. “Get this done by tonight, I want to have access to all security footage, if Jaha sees it, we should see it.” he instructed again. Before he left though, he glanced at Clarke one final time.

“Griffin, I’ll see you here tomorrow morning at 9:00. Monty and Harper can take over medical until noon.”

\----

Clarke couldn’t contain her excitement the next morning. She barely slept last night, anxiety working her body up. She might finally have a chance at finding out about the people on the other side of the wall, maybe get to properly talk to Nyko, ask him about life there. It felt like newfound confidence, like maybe her original plan might get scrapped for the possibility of a better one where no one will get hurt. She needed to get Bellamy to tell her what he knew, she needed to ask him if there’s a chance for co-existing in peace with the others.

She ran into Raven while dashing out of bed and slipping her jeans on.

“Whoa Griffin, hold up, maybe you want to shower?”

“No time,” Clarke mumbled heading out.

Then, she almost ran into Bellamy who was leaning outside the engineering room waiting for her. He pushed off the wall stepping in front of her.

“You have a jacket?” he asked. She noticed his black one hugging his broad shoulders and big arms. She averted her eyes quickly refusing to let the pink hue cover her cheeks.

“Will I need one?” she looked down self-cautiously at her grey t-shirt. He rolled his eyes and an amused smile stretched across his lips. She didn’t think he was capable of something like that.

“No Princess, I think you’re fine.” he shook his head walking into the engineering room. He grabbed a backpack and threw it at her, she caught it midair looking at it curiously. He grabbed another one hanging it off his shoulder.

“Put it on, we’re going to be gone a while.”

“Where are we going?”

“You wanted to know about the others, well it’s your lucky day” his tone was dry as he walked around picking up random object shoving it in his pack. Then he picked up two palm-sized walkie-talkies. He handed her one his fingers grazing hers.

“Really?” her eyes lit up. He looked back at her, Clarke could’ve sworn she saw warmness in his eyes but then it was gone and she assumed she imagined it.

“Yeah,” he walked ahead of her, “let’s go.”

They fell in step together taking the back exist of the Dropship, the one Clarke took two nights ago when she needed some air. The sun was bright beaming down at them although there wasn’t much heat because the wind was cooler.

This time of year was always Clarke’s favorite, it was known at one time to be Autumn, but with the imbalance in the ecosystem and having to generate their food and plants manually, the idea of Autumn where nature would fall slowly before rising up again months later, was forgotten.

They walked for about fifteen minutes when the wall came into view. Clarke wondered how they were going to get through? There were security cameras all over, not to mention the guards on patrol. Since the council members and Jaha found out about life outside the walls, thanks to her father, surveillance doubled. Bellamy must have seen the confusion on her face.

“There’s a hidden passage, it’s under ground. You see that building there?” he pointed to a run down looking building, although it was more like a barn or shed. The bricks were falling, rubble all around it, and only the frames of doors and windows still in tact.

“Yeah?”

“Well, we get down to the tunnels through there, then we’re on the other side.”

From the distance she could see a patrol car coming their way. They ran towards the shed hiding behind it. Pressing their backs against the side, she felt her heart hammer against her chest; she prayed they hadn’t seen them.

“Relax Princess,”

She didn’t get a chance to respond because the car was turning around. Bellamy grabbed her hand tucking her closer to his side. Her breath fanned against his jacket, and tried her hardest to stay still and be small. His grip on her tightened and then he was leading her inside the torn down shed. There were two doors on the ground sealed with a large lock, digging in his backpack, Bellamy pulled out some metal instrument and fiddled with the lock until it clicked open.

He took her hand again leading her down the steps.

“Careful,” he whispered. She let go of him and walked ahead, “Hey, what do you think you’re doing,” he asked still whispering.

“I can take care of myself.” she narrowed her eyes at him but for some reason today it seemed that instead of getting angry with her every time she opened her mouth, she seemed to be entertaining him. A smirk and amused eyes laughed at her, and she didn’t know if it was mockingly or if he was genuine.

Bellamy Blake, she thought, was cut and dry. Tough, harsh, powerful leader of the most talked about and feared rebel group. But the past two days, he surprised her, and if she thought she wasn’t afraid of him before, she was sure she was now.

“I know” was all he said leading the way again. The tunnels smelt horrible, like a faint gasoline scent mixed in with an awful manure scent. It seemed to have been a sewer or something because there were pipes running along the sides and water dripping from them at all angles. They continued on for ten more minutes using the lights Bellamy placed in their bags to lead the way.

Nyko came into view holding what looking like a bow and arrow tightly. When he recognized them, he loosened his grip and held the weapon behind his back instead.  
There was a soft fiery glow, coming from a lit torch, illuminating his tense features and angry eyes.

“Bellamy,” he said, shifting his eyes between the two of them.

“It’s okay Nyko, she’s fine,”

Nyko stood still, and when Bellamy took a step forward, he placed a hand blocking his way. Bellamy looked down at Nyko’s hand before turning to greet him with a death glare. Nyko being the smart man that he was moved aside and let them pass.

“Hope you know it is you are doing, Bellamy,” Nyko’s broken speech seemed haunting and even Clarke knew the weight that warning carried. Bellamy, however, didn’t respond instead continued to walk forward. Nyko picked up the torch that was shoved into the ground at his side and walked behind them.

They came to a clearing with a ladder going up right in front of them and the light from the sky above gleaming down. Clarke and Bellamy turned off their lights but Nyko kept his grip on the torch firm. They climbed until they were met with the cool breeze and fresh air, or what came close to fresh air in a land drenched in nuclear warfare aftermath.

The sight in front of Clarke left her breathless though. She noticed that the wall was distant now about a two miles away. But in front of her, life was blazing. She was right in the middle of what seemed like an outdoor market. Nyko swung a large metal door over the hole they just climbed out of, securing it shut and turning to walk ahead of them. Clarke followed but her eyes took in everything. She witnessed young boys and girls running around, in between tables filled with different types of fruits and vegetables, ones she hadn’t even heard of before. The culture, the atmosphere, it was all very different to her. Exciting and new and she wanted to indulge in it.

The language the locals were speaking to each other caught her ears. It was different, interesting, she noticed that their words were longer. They dragged out letters, unlike their own language where each sound was short and to the point. She also noticed that their voices as they spoke seemed lighter too, like they didn’t have a care in the world. Clarke didn’t realize she was smiling until she met Bellamy’s eyes. He was gazing at her, in a way he hadn’t before, and she felt uneasy.

“What?” she questioned

“Nothing,” the corners of his mouth tilted upwards vaguely.

“Then why are you staring at me like that?” she asked, and this earned her an actual chuckle from Bellamy Blake.

“C’mon,” he said instead, and they moved to catch up with Nyko.

They hiked away from the market, turning towards tall trees covered in a greenish glow. The woods before her were unique compared to the ones surrounding Arkadia, or the forest she ran through when searching for the Dropship. These ones seemed free; as they swayed in the gentle wind they stood taller too. Making their way through, she tried to follow exactly where the two men in front of her stepped. These woods as beautiful as they were seemed to hold secrets, traps, betrayal she wanted to no part in. After a minute or so, they arrived at a glade.

The glade was full of life, if possible more than at the market. There were cabins along side the outside of the open space, with men and women working on what looked like a few new cabins. There was a large fire pit in the middle, and kids were dancing around it singing a tune she never heard before. What intrigued her the most was while they seemed to live carefree, the doors to many cabins wide open compared to Arkadia’s complete blocked out and shut down vide, they actually held an air of dominance. A type of power and fear that only came from respect.

“Through here,” Bellamy murmured in her ear. She felt the warmth of his breath and shook her head internally. She wasn’t accustomed to any kind of comfort. The only real human contact she had in the last few months was hugging her father in his last moment, and while that may seem like forever ago, Clarke still felt the weight of his arms around her as she cried out.

She trailed behind Bellamy slowly, walking towards a cabin off to the far side being the only one secluded to that section of the glade. Nyko knocked the door once.

“Nyko, Bellamy” a bald man with tattoos of his own wearing a long brown robe greeted, but when his eyes met Clarke’s he held the door stiffly.

“It’s okay Titus, she’s with me.” Bellamy said raising a hand to hold the door back. Titus’ eyes wandered across her face.

“Heda won’t like this.” Titus said, and he seemed really reluctant to open the door but the way he looked at Bellamy gave Clarke the impression that as much as he respected this Heda, he respected Bellamy enough to open the door anyways and step aside to let them through.

From the outside the cabin looked to be small, enough for maybe a family of two, but inside, the walls stretched high to the ceiling and the windows big and wide letting sunlight through. The space felt bigger with the few wooden and metal tables and chairs that decorated the place. The warmth engulfed Clarke quickly, as she stepped through taking in every inch of the cabin. The smell of wood and burning incense filled her nose.

“Lexa.” Bellamy said, walking closer to the girl sitting on a chair at the back of the room. Clarke turned to see the girl, Lexa, who she hadn’t notice when she entered, eyeing her.

“You brought someone,” her voice was sharp, not a single part of it wavering as she spoke. She seemed so sure of herself, sitting up there on what seemed like her throne. Clarke bit back the urge to tell Bellamy that he’s been calling the wrong girl ‘Princess’.

“She has insight on the council, with her we are much closer to the revolution.”

“You trust her?” Lexa questioned looking at him with scrutiny. Bellamy didn’t bother looking at Clarke when he said the next words that made her breath hitch.

“Yes.”

Lexa seemed to accept that bland answer. Clarke couldn’t help but wonder if Bellamy just said that so the three strangers wouldn’t kill her on the spot or if he actually meant it. If he did mean it, when did she suddenly earn this newfound trust? Just a few hours ago when Raven had asked him the same question he gave an opposite answer. Clarke didn’t have time to open her mouth or even begin to form her words when she heard Lexa’s chair slide back and the tall brunette girl was standing right in front of her.

“I don’t.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should have mentioned this before, but these chapters are edited by me and no one else, meaning I don't have a fresh pair of eyes looking over them, so if there are any mistakes, sorry!
> 
> New chapter every week or so (:

5.

Clarke stared at Lexa.

She wanted to keep her gaze strong, unwavering but every muscle, every inch of her begged her to look away. Look at Titus, at Nyko, even chance a glance at Bellamy, just to keep this girl with haunting eyes from breaking her down. Still, she kept her gaze strong, unwavering.

“Heda, maybe he is right. He has not lead us astray before,” Titus, spoke watching his commander and Clarke at war. His robes brown, like mud, wrapped tightly around him and with his tone and wary glimpse at the two girls in front of him, he probably wished he could sink in it.

“How brave of you to keep your head up so high,” Lexa sneered, eyes narrowing. Clarke noted faint streaks of black around her eyes, on her cheeks, near her jaw, who the hell was this person? Her presence commanded attention, she looked and sounded like she had witnessed enough triumphs in her life but yet as Clarke kept pushing, not backing down, she noticed something hidden behind those eyes, something she had seen before in Bellamy’s, like Lexa truly didn’t realize or didn’t care about the power in her stance.

“I understand that I am a stranger to you,” Clarke found her voice although it failed her and cracked a bit as she spoke, “but, I have given my word and dedication to Skircru—”

“Your word doesn’t mean anything to me, and I don’t have an alliance with Skicru,” Lexa said abruptly. Clarke furrowed her brows in confusion, if she was not helping Skicru keep the council from raging war and eliminating her people, then what were they doing here? Lexa sensed this, she seemed to read her questions as if they were written on her face, which they most likely were.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you,” she smirked at Bellamy who remained unfazed, “we’re fighting this war.”

Clarke’s mind shut down, or it felt like it did because the intense stare down with Lexa ended, her vision blurring, and her mouth a gap. She took a step back, a part of her scolded herself for appearing in this state, so weak, so easily pushed down. But the other part was too anxious to care. War? She wanted to fight against the people of Arkadia? Did she not know what kind of power they hold; did she not see how Clarke was here trying to fight for them, with them, to live in peace?

“You are stupid Clarke if you believe your people will agree to a treaty, or coexistence, or peace. They will not stop until they are the only ones with power,” Lexa shifted her gaze to Titus, nodded once and he left her side to enter further into the cabin, “For years I have hid and kept my people safe, for years my people before me fought for our secrets and our lives,” A pause and her eyes gleamed, “Was it not your father who told your people about us? If you think about it Clarke, you started this war.”

Titus returned but with nothing in hand, this time he didn’t even turn to look at Lexa or wait for any acknowledgement. He walked over to the door, opened it wide, showing them this conversation was over, it was probably all over the minute Clarke went to meet Bellamy this morning in the engineering room.

Nyko gripped Clarke’s arm as she was still dazed and led her to the door where the gleaming sunlight poured in, trying to lighten up the darkest cabin she’s ever been to. She then remembered Bellamy and turned back to see him talking to Lexa in hushed tones, the door shut with a slam against her. She turned to see Nyko had let go of her arm and now standing against the right side of the door.

“What…Is she really going to start a war?” she let out in a soft breath. Her hands reaching for the base of her neck, trying to somehow regulate her erratic breathing.

“The war already started, and Heda didn’t make the first move.”

That was all that was said between them, for the next minute or so they welcomed deafening silence. Clarke still trying to wrap her head around what just happened, what she just learnt. Movement from the woods across the cabin caught her blue eyes, soldiers, warriors, and fighters alike walking in step with an assortment of weapons. There were knifes, swords, shields, spears, anything that could be fashioned from the simplest of material found in their court, tucked in their boots and harness, waiting to attack. The war had started and by the looks of how well trained, how strong these men and women were; it had started a while back.

Bellamy finally emerged from the cabin; he leaned closer to Nyko muttering a few words to which Nyko replied in his mother tongue. Once Nyko left the area, Bellamy came to stand in front of her, eyes watching her every move.

“What happened?” she asked trying and failing from gritting her teeth. His gaze shifted, from studying her with angry eyes to looking her over, top to bottom, with curious eyes. He smirked softly, and motioned with his chin at the mob of fighters she had previously been staring at.

“You happened, Princess.”

“Bellamy, she can’t seriously be considering to fight with them. They have advanced technology, weapons, numbers that Lexa cannot produce. If she fights this war, if she even gives Jaha a hint of retaliation, we are all done.” she emphasized ignoring his previous statement, stepping closer to him. She was invading his space, when she had noticed how little room remained between them she swallowed whatever nerves or… whatever it was that she felt when she was this close to him and let her anger rise, consuming her.

“We can’t let this happen,” she practically begged, at the softness of her voice, he leaned closer until his lips were aligned with her ear, teasing her with his hot breath.

“We can’t talk, not here,” he said backing away and heading further into the woods, in the opposite direction of the glade and the market. Clarke thanked God that Bellamy’s back was to her and he didn’t spare her much of a glance after he spoke the words because the heat that rushed to her cheeks and her neck would have betrayed any frustration that was laced in her words, in her whole body, whenever she had a conversation with him.

When they were far enough from the cabin to talk freely, but still close enough to see outlines and glimmers of the people rushing through the glade, Bellamy’s husky voice sent shivers down her spine again. She was slowly, very slowly getting used to pushing them away.

“Lexa will fight whether I tell her to or not,” Clarke opened her mouth to say something but he continued, cutting her off with a pointed look before speaking again, “She will gather an army twice as big as Jaha’s if she has to, but she will fight.” she clutched the handles of her backpack against her shoulders tightly.

“Then why come here? Why bring me here to her when you knew she was going to deny our help and laugh at me?”

“Because now she knows that you didn’t have anything to do with Jaha finding out about them. When she questioned you in there, when she threw what your father figured out in your face and you stood taken back, she knew you were innocent,”

“I still don’t understand, Nyko said that the war had started already, and those warriors seemed well trained, like they have been preparing for war their whole lives. My father made this discovery three months ago,” it wasn’t exactly a question, but the way Bellamy took a step back and looked to the side seeming torn, she knew that she had hinted at something he was reluctant to share.

“People have had theories about life beyond the wall for decades, years before your father found evidence. Would you not prepare for war, prepare to fight even if there had only been speculation?” he replied, crossing his arms across his chest, watching her with those dark brown eyes again. He waited silently, letting her slowly mull over it all.

“I still don’t know why you brought me here, if she wasn’t willing to listen, if they all see me as a traitor,” she refused to let the defeat show in her voice. Clarke was far from the strong willed survivor her mother was, or the leader that Wells would grow to be, but she refused to feel weak, to be the broken girl she knew she was even before her father’s life was taken, even before she found the truth about this cruel world.

“I brought you here to see for yourself that peace was not the goal, that you can’t use that pretty mouth of yours to talk your way into and out of everything. People’s lives are on the line, Lexa’s people and my people, the ones who bleed for no reason, starve because they were born into the wrong families, have to commit crimes to keep their lungs going.” his voice shook her again, sending endless shivers down her spine. She noticed how his eyes went soft when he spoke of “his” people, how there was something, something like guilt or understanding, and yet Clarke couldn’t understand how with that, he still didn’t see peace among them all as an answer.

“But we can work together, we can force the council to see that those people are not a threat, that we can live side by side and be fine. Bellamy, peace is what we need,” she had started, crossing her arms across her chest mimicking him, she took a step forward wanting to speak again but was cut off.

“Don’t be selfish, Griffin, you want peace, you want to let yourself believe that there is still humanity left, that peace is the answer to everything wrong with Arkadia, but it’s not. It’s not the answer, it’s what you want because of some inner fight you have, because of your guilt or fear or whatever else that’s keeping you up at night.” his harshness made her flinch, what was left of her stubbornness, of the strength she had disappeared. She took a step back only to trip on a poorly cut tree stump, a gasp caught in her throat; she fell back on her butt with a thud. Bellamy was at her side in seconds with what seemed like an apologetic look but it slipped just as fast as it came.

Clarke moved away from him, declining his help and got up on her own. She mumbled she’d be at the market and walked off leaving him behind and hoping she remembered where the market was.

She shoved the tree branches and leaves out of her way, her mind lost in thought and anger, her feet guiding her back to the glade. She stole a glance at the still dangerously scary looking fighters pushing the bile back in her throat.

 _I can’t believe we survived a nuclear war, just to slaughter each other_ , she thought.

—

At the market, she browsed the different stands and booths, spices and sweet smells welcoming her. She looked on as the women, who looked so much different, so free, giggled to one another swapping stories, picking out fabrics and pieces of clothing they found beautiful. The envy was shoved down, and the more she looked at the men working alongside their women, the children playing, the food cooking, she felt sick to her stomach. These innocent people who would soon find themselves in the middle of a war that could be easily written off, easily solved.

“Do you want it?” Eyeing the red piece of fabric that was in her hand, she peeked over her shoulder and shook her head. The thin soft material slipped from her fingers, and she walked past him to the door on the floor from which they came.

“We have one more stop,” he called after her.

“It’s fine, you go ahead, I’ll wait here,” her tone was dry, and maybe he didn’t deserve it, his words from earlier hurt but acting this way would make him think he has some affect on her, which he doesn’t, but to know your baggage and have someone throw it at you, it fucking sucked. He obviously knew this world better than she did, there must be more to this story than he was telling her, and maybe it isn’t his fault that these people will be homeless and hungry within months if war was truly coming but she was angry and tired and he was there.

“Don’t be dramatic,” she fixed him with a sharp look but he only smirked.

“Don't you get tired of being a smug smirking ass?”

“Don't you get tired of looking down your nose all the time?”

“You keep talking about my status back in Arkadia, yet I never do, seems like your more obsessed with it than I ever was,” she quipped back raising an eyebrow. His smirk grew.

“You keep talking about my smug ass, seems like you are obsessed with it?” he raised an eyebrow. She was in awe, Bellamy Blake who never smiles; whose words are covered in venom, who practically shouts every time he speaks, was actually kind of flirting with her. She fought a small smile, keeping her face neutral and hard.

“You wish," she rolled her eyes, "What’s the stop?” she asked walking forward until they were walking side by side a few feet away from each other. They made their way through the all of a sudden crowded streets, avoiding ramming into the families, couples and children so unaware of what was in store for them.

“The medical centre,” he said pointing to another wooden cabin. It was located near the middle edge of the market place, a little distance away from the stands but still within walking distance from every angle of their little civilization. It was much smaller than Lexa’s was but still big enough to carry enough patients for the doctor to see at a time. There was a wooden porch surrounding it as well, with two steps and multiple chairs lined up against the walls.

“Do they know?”

“No, not yet, Lexa will announce it at Grationem Dan, in two weeks.” He didn’t bother asking he knew exactly who she meant.

“Where?”

“It’s their version of Unity Day, except instead of coming together to build a fucking wall, it was the day all twelve clans joined forces to ensure their safety against people of the Ark.”

Twelve clans? It seemed pretty clear that this area was a small city, maybe even a town, and Clarke knew that there were probably more like it, but twelve groups of people besides the ones she saw today, was a little frightening, especially with the war coming. When Bellamy had said that Lexa will double her army if she wanted to he was referring to the thousands of other people that were way beyond the wall. Clarke swore under her breath, the more she learnt about this world, their world, the less she actually knew.

“Nyko,” Bellamy called as he stepped inside the clinic, he disappeared into the back like he had memorized this place, while Clarke hung back coming to face a girl with her arm wrapped up in a stingy cloth and a little boy playing with what looked to be two small rocks.

The inside of the cabin was warm, the windows large on each side letting the sun naturally heat up the room. Besides the chairs that seemed to be randomly sprawled out, the room was empty. She couldn’t help but compare it to the clean, sleek white waiting area at the hospital at the Ark. Her thoughts then automatically went to her mother, she didn’t let herself wonder what she was doing or if she was still broadcasting messages looking for her, but she wondered about the woman she was. The one who would have told Clarke that peace can exist, that it would if she wanted it bad enough, if she fought hard enough. But there was that word again, fought, to fight. It seemed like there was nothing to do, no good or bad can come without putting up a fight.

The little boy was now sitting on the ground, the two rocks in front of him and a third much larger rock in between them. The little girl was staring at her quietly, and when she met her eye and offered her a tiny smile the girl remained still, like she was surprised somebody would smile at her.

“Hey, I’m Clarke,” she smiled a bit wider this time, the boy’s head shot up to her, he also remained still, “what are you doing?” she asked him. The two of them remained silent, observing her, taking in her clothes, her hair, and the smile on her face. She awkwardly sat down on the ground a few paces away from the boy and shifted her backpack so it sat in her lap, she opened it slowly afraid she might scare them off, and rummaged through it hoping to find what she was looking for.

“Here,” she held out a bag of nuts and dried fruit to them and when they didn’t reach for it she placed it next to his rocks. She looked back into the bag pulling out the flashlight she used to get through the tunnel earlier.

“This is for you too, I don’t know if you’re afraid of the dark or not but it can help, plus it’s the only thing I have here that might be cooler than those rocks,” she nodded to the ground, while the boy’s eyes froze on the object in her hand, “Here, look,” she turned it on and shined it underneath one of the chairs where it was darker. Then she crooked her forefinger and middle finger placing them in front of the light. She moved her hand around, the shadow resembling a rabbit as if it was moving through the woods. She peeked over at the two of them and found faint smiles on their lips. She shut off the light and handed it to the boy, who took it this time, before zipping up her bag and going after Bellamy.

She walked through the open door leading deeper into the cabin. A narrow hallway welcomed her and as she walked through unsure of which way to turn when she heard voices arguing.

“Back off,” it was stern, Bellamy, she realized.

“He didn’t mean harm,”

“Tell her, tell her and if she doesn’t agree,” a third voice she didn’t recognize said before Bellamy cut him off claiming that he wasn’t telling her shit. Whoever this girl was she appeared to be very important because in the last few times she argued with him, his words were never covered in such malice.

“She could’ve been hurt,” he continued angrily, “my sister, my responsibility.” His voice could shake mountains if there were any within a thousand mile radius. They had been talking about Octavia. This person must be the one she said she was protecting, or someone who was close to her at least. Not wanting to walk into something that was clearly none of her business, she took careful steps back rushing back to the waiting area before anyone notice she had left.

When she looked over to the corner where the kids sat seconds ago, she found the space empty, the flashlight and food rations gone as well.

“We’re leaving,” she felt the hostility radiating off him, not having to look back to know his face was stone cold and body language bitter.

The market was a blaze, much more crowded than before. It must be high time, with the sun at the sky’s peak and the endless chatter in their foreign language, she felt a rush of excitement. She wanted to stay a bit longer, maybe talk to some of them; see what they really thought of their leader’s opinion of war. But staring at the back of Bellamy’s head trying not to lose him in the crowd, she knew better than to ask him to stay.

When they had entered the God-awful tunnel with the retched smell, she opened her mouth to speak, but his breath was heavy and his fingers turning white as he clenched the flashlight tighter in his hand. They walked in silence a while longer until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Octavia will be fine, I’m sure her wounds have healed already,” she was startled when he stopped and turned to face her.

“You heard?” his voice gruff and tired.

“Not a lot, just you saying she was your responsibility,”

He continued walking, “she is,” it was final, he was done talking about it but he had to know by now, Clarke was stubborn.

“Did she tell you why she did it?” He didn’t speak, if anything his pace quickened wanting to avoid her, “She told me she was protecting someone she loved,”

He paused again and she almost slammed into his back. In one move he pushed her back until her lower back hit the cold pipe along one side of the tunnel. His face dangerously close and his eyes burning brown almost scary, almost.

“She’s sixteen, she doesn’t know what love is,” his voice low, one hand gripping the flashlight shinning it behind her head, the other gripping the pipe she was leaning on.

“Funny she said a similar thing about you,”

Coldness hit her hard when he stepped back, a very brief shake of his head before walking away and ahead of her. Clarke let out a breath she didn’t realize was frozen in her throat, chasing after him.

“So what happens in two weeks, when she mentions war to them? Will they agree with her?” she changed the topic, hoping that he would still indulge her and give her answers she’s been waiting on since her eyes shot open this morning.

“No, they will probably hate her, but they will follow her anyway. She is their commander, they will fight and die for her.”

“Just like Skicru would for you,” his breath hitched but she pretended she didn’t notice. “You’ve known about Lexa and her people for a while,” Clarke said as they made their way through the horrifying tunnel going back to the Dropship. Bellamy nodded walking ahead of her.

“How?”

“Since I came to the Dropship,” her eyes plastered to his back watching the way his jacket hugged him, the way he moved easily.

“When was that?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her and if he caught her staring he didn’t mention it, just remained silent, ignoring her question all over again.

“What did Lexa say to you in the cabin?” she tried again, hoping her voice seemed concerned.

“We had some business to take care of,” she could hear the snide smirk in his tone.

“We?”

“Me and her,” he shrugged but Clarke swore she could feel, hear his smirk grow as he said the words.

The more time she spent with Bellamy, the more of a mystery he became. Granted she has only been here about four days, and spoken to him a handful of times, this being the longest they ever spent together, but she would have thought that the rumours would be somewhat true. She obviously knew better, seeing as some rumours floated around about her that couldn’t be farther from the truth and yet, the ones she’s heard about Bellamy sparked the thought that they might be more fact than fiction.

“You know there are rumours about you back in Arkadia,” she said seemingly nonchalant.

“There are rumours about you back at the Dropship,” he said back with the same aloofness. She smiled to herself, picking up her pace to walk beside him.

“I’ll tell you what I heard if you tell me what you heard,” she offers, he peers down at her before averting his gaze back ahead of them shifting the light to better show them the way. He had shaken his head at her earlier when they were climbing down the ladder at the mention of her giving away the flashlight to the boy and girl at the medical cabin.

“You first, Princess,” she debated what to tell him. She could mention the different ways in which they believed him to punish the rebels who disobeyed him, or his tactics and strategies they found to be inhuman and selfish.

“They say you look like a run down version of Marcus Kane, with less hair and a crooked nose,” his eyes shot up to meet hers. A faint smile dancing across his lips, and a raised eyebrow challenging her, she prayed the darkness around them concealed her cheeks.

“Really?”

“No, but that’s how I pictured you whenever I heard your name being mentioned,” she smirked at him, his faint smile turned into an actual one and she had to force herself to get back to answering his question and focusing on her words, “They talked about the kind of power you had, Wells said that if you used it for good you probably could make a difference,”

His smile slipped and in an instant she regretted telling him about it.

“He’s probably right,” was all he said. They walked in silence until they reached the opening to the abandoned barn they had entered from. Bellamy shut the door behind her locking it back in place before scouting the area quickly to make sure there weren’t any patrol cars driving around. When the coast was clear they moved forward, leaving the wall behind them.

“You want to know what they say about you?” he asked, zipping down his jacket to reveal his navy blue shirt she saw him in a few days ago.

“Nothing I’ve never heard before I’m sure,” she mumbled, clutching the handles of the backpack, her thumb pressing into her shoulder.

“They say you’re this Princess,” she scoffed rolling her eyes, “who’s kind and cares, and it confuses them.”

Clarke didn’t look to meet his awaiting gaze and didn’t bother answering his unasked question. Trying to understand that they were slightly wary around her wasn’t hard, she’d probably be worse in their position. After all, she was a stranger of a higher rank and close to the enemy, who suddenly came wanting to help them. But she had proved herself, or tried to, she had declared her allegiance to them and yet they were scared and worried in her presence.

“It’s hard for them,” his voice low but calm, “you’re the first person to come to the Dropship willingly in over two years, you found it without being guided or using a map, and you offer help with only peace in mind.”

“That so hard to believe?”

“Yes, because people don’t voluntarily offer help to the group of dangerous delinquents they were warned about their entire life,”

“I’m not people,” she shrugged.

“No you’re not,” he agreed, and she took a brief look at him when she felt his eyes burning a hole to the side of her head. They continued to walk in silence after that, until the familiar building came into view. Clarke sighed, mentally preparing herself for the craziness that is known as the medic room. It had felt like the longest day of her life when in reality it was a quarter after twelve in the afternoon.

“You know there is one rumour about you that seems to hold true,” Clarke mentioned turning to walk backwards ahead of him. He knit his brows looking at her intently.

“Apparently, you have a thing for brunettes,” his brown eyes went a shade darker as the smuggest smirk she’d seen graced his lips. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to throw something at him or laugh.

“Who told you that? Spacewalker?” he asked, smirk still in tact.

“Who?”

“Collins,”

“Finn, yeah he did, but since being here and after seeing you and Lexa, I think you have a problem,” she joked, feigning concern.

“You wanna help me with that, Doctor?” her face fell flat, and warm, and red. She threw him a vulgar gesture over her shoulder turning as she walked into the place that would surely kill her. She could’ve sworn she heard his low chuckle follow her to the med room.

\----

Later that night, after a hectic day of dealing with bruises, broken bones, and open wounds, Clarke walked into her room and fell face first onto her bed. She spent her time patching people up and thinking about what she had witnessed today. It was clear that Lexa believed that war was the answer, and so did Bellamy since he went to say as much, but Lexa claimed that she wasn’t in alliance with them. Clarke also didn’t really know Lexa, not enough to try to get in her head or talk her out of war. Her plan had been in place since she stepped outside her home and came here, yet with Bellamy’s connection to the city beyond the wall, there came hope that maybe a new plan could hatch, but as always she spoke to soon because her hope was shattered, and so did the hope of avoiding her original motive.

“Rough day?” Raven asked from her place perched up on her own bed.

“Everyday is a rough day at this place,” Clarke’s muffled voice dripping with exhaustion.

“Get used to it,” Raven spread her legs out in front of her, resting her head against the wall behind her, “Heard Blake took you to Polis, did you get the answers you were looking for?”

Polis, that was what it was called. The name sounded strange, but somehow strong and free, like the people who occupy it.

“Yeah he did, and not really. I think there is a lot more that he isn’t telling me, I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t trust me or…” she trailed off sighing deeply, “He told Lexa he trusted me when she asked him but I’m sure it was more for my safety than anything. I’m also pretty sure he only took me there to scare me, show me that I can’t stop whatever war was coming,”

“You can’t, but if he said he trusted you, even to Lexa, then he does. He just needs time,”

“Time for what?”

“Think about it Clarke, he allowed you to come in here, let you stay and work and do whatever you wanted, if he didn’t trust you he wouldn’t have done any of that. He would have sent you home right away,” Raven picked up a book that was open from the side of her bed and placed it in her lap, “You’ll figure it out with time,” was all she said before she started scanning the pages, reading.

After a few minutes of quiet, Clarke asked, “Did he and Lexa, ever…you know?” A small snicker came from Raven but her eyes remained on her book.

“Ask him,” and Clarke knew that the conversation for the night has ended, and she would never ever in a million years ask Bellamy about his past relationship with any of his brunette lovers. She kept that smile that he gave her today locked in the back of her mind, because with it running around in her head came risk, with it she couldn’t do what she came here to do.


	7. Chapter 7

6.

For the next week and a half Clarke found herself in a new routine. She would get up every morning at around eight to find that Raven was already gone. She would then make her way to the med room with Monty and Jasper in tow talking about whatever fucked up shit they did the previous night. She would have a late breakfast with Harper and sometimes with Octavia who was out and about as if nothing had happened. They usually talked about the different sectors of the Dropship, the different guys on the different squads that caught their attention, or the careless patients Clarke used to see when working at the hospital, alongside her mother, back in Arkadia.

She avoided asking about the people beyond the wall and about Octavia’s reasoning for why she let herself bleed half to death. She was afraid if she did mention anything, she would cave and tell the girl with the bright wondering eyes what she heard her brother say in Polis.

“They’re called Grounders, or we call them that,” Octavia had told her a few nights ago when she indirectly mentioned how the people beyond the wall have the best organic and herbal methods of healing an infection.

Her nights were spent in her shared room alone, she usually had one of Raven’s books propped up on the side of the couch as she ate her dinner and read about computers and coding. She didn’t understand half the words but this was what her father did for a living, for twenty-five years, and these are the words he knew so well and spoke so clearly. Sometimes she would reach into her personal pack and pull out her worn out sketch book, drawing pictures of the medbay or Octavia’s bedroom, sometimes she would outline the faces of the people she encountered, capturing the shy smile of Monty, the goofy eyed Jasper and even badass Raven with her raised eyebrow. Then when she was exhausted enough to go straight to sleep, she would cuddle in between the sheets and knock out, hoping the nightmares weren’t waiting on her.

She hadn’t had any horrible ones since she arrived at the Dropship, not the kind she would wake up screaming from or rushing over to the toilet to cough up her dinner, but still bad enough that she would wake up sweating and on edge, refusing to go back to sleep. In the midst of all that, she also hadn’t spoken to Bellamy, not since their trip, and she had only seen him once when he walked into the med room with Miller, demanding to speak to Octavia.

It was two days after that she saw Octavia again practically skipping into the med room with a wide grin that Clarke had never seen before.

“Why are you so happy?” she asked, pouring a drop of moonshine on Jasper’s hand. He had managed to somehow get it caught between two tables reaching for some microchip or something, down in the engineering room.

“Ah, shit,” Jasper winced, “she’s happy because Grationem Dan,” he shook his injured hand letting drops of moonshine cover the floor. Clarke wrapped it tightly rolling her eyes at his behavior.

“I thought that was a Grounder thing,”

“It is, but Bellamy goes every year and this year he promised to take me” she exclaimed, her happiness bubbling to the surface as her grin grew even wider.

“Easy smiley, after what you pulled, I doubt he will,” Jasper smirked then winced when Clarke tightened the cloth around his hand. Octavia smirked at him just as Monty walked in mouth full of food.

“Did you hear the news?” his muffled voice called out to them. He had a sandwich in each hand, and a bite taken from each one. He handed one to Jasper who held it with his good hand and took an even bigger bite not seeming the least bit bothered.

“Yes! I’m going to Grationem Dan!” Octavia’s hands shot up in the air before she perched herself up on the bench next to Jasper.

“Yeah, but apparently so is Alpha Squad,”

“Wait what?” the smile fell off of Octavia’s face instantly, her feet met the ground again as she booked it out of the room not bothering to hear the rest of Monty’s words.

“Harper just…” he trailed off, watching her go, “told me.”

“Why is Alpha Squad going such a big deal, don’t Miller and Murphy go with him every year?” Jasper questioned returning back to his sandwich. Monty shrugged before taking the seat Octavia just left getting into a story about how he and Jasper once made the strongest batch of moonshine. Bellamy was pissed for days because the guards were so disoriented. Clarke laughed along at all the right moments, and nodded at both boys as they tore into story after story of their time at the Dropship. She did enjoy learning about this place, about them, but her mind was somewhere else.

Later that night she opted out from her usual dinner plans and instead found her way to the cafeteria in the left wing of the main floor. The place resembled the rest of the Dropship, grey tiles, walls, metal chairs and tables, however, it was full of life. There were people everywhere, some she recognized who came to visit her in the medbay more often than she would like, and some she had never seen before. She scanned the room to find Octavia and Raven sitting at a long table in the corner. From where she stood Clarke can sense they were having an intense conversation with the way Octavia bent her head down, hair covering the side of her face speaking in hushed tones. Raven’s face stuck in bewilderment and slight understanding as she nodded along.

Clarke decided it would probably be best to grab something from the kitchen before going to join them. She stood in line behind some giggling girls who seemed way too young to be at a place so hostile and violent like this. A place that held the future adults of a corrupted world who were trying to find a way to override the system using war and death. She forced herself to think of anything else, anything that didn’t involve how sick and twisted it was to listen in on these young teens’ lives that would no doubt end if Lexa was serious about her plans.

“Always thinking,” Finn’s breath hit her ear and she jerked back surprised.

“Don’t you have some other girl to bother?” she asked unimpressed and impatient at how slow the line was moving. Finn must have suspected as much because he grabbed her hand leading her to the front of the line. Yells of protest came from behind them but it didn’t bother Finn, although her cheeks burned up a bit.

“What are you doing?” she asked trying and failing to pull out of his grasp.

“Don, can you give us two sandwiches, no tomatoes on mine,” he winked at the boy, Don, behind the counter who Clarke bet was dying to give them the finger. Seconds later he came back with two wrapped pieces of bread, no doubt stale, and handed them over to Finn who winked again before dragging Clarke behind him.

“Collins, Griffin” Raven said in a way of greeting when they arrived at the table. It seemed that they saw them coming because whatever conversation she was having with the younger brunette stilled and they turned their attention to their untouched food.

“Raven, always a pleasure,” Finn smirked at her, perching himself to sit on top of the table with his feet planted on a chair in front of him, and his back to an irritated Raven. Clarke took a seat on the chair in front of Octavia, next to Finn, giving her a questioning look to which Octavia shook her head as if saying nothing was wrong and plastered a fake smile on her face.

“So turns out I won’t be going to Grationem Dan in two days, but I get to go on the next trip to Polis in two months,” her tone feigned brightness, and everyone must have known but played along trying to smile with her. Clarke wanted to ask why the sudden change of events but with Finn sitting there, and the awkwardness that floated into their table with Octavia’s fake smile and Raven’s unsubtle glare at the back of Finn’s head, she knew it probably was better to leave it unanswered.

“Uhm, so we are out of seaweed for healing sores and I think Bellamy isn’t going to slow down training anytime soon,” Clarke said hoping to diffuse the tension, “Could someone mention this to him?” Raven raised an eyebrow, picking at the rice on her plate.

“Why don’t you tell him?”

“Because every time we talk it ends in harsh words and a fight,” she explained taking a bite of her sandwich, the bread was indeed stale.

“I could mention it to him,” Finn offered grinning that same amused cocky grin that never seems to leave his face. Raven rolled her eyes behind his back and even Octavia struggled to keep her scoff to herself.

“Thanks,” Clarke mumbled, turning to look at anyone and anywhere else besides the three sketchy people at her table. She noticed that it was quite an interesting setting. The girls were scattered about, some sitting with other girls forming a larger group, giggling and gossiping. Some were sitting with the boys, shamelessly flirting and indulging in what appeared to be deep conversations. There were many couples around that Clarke hadn’t noticed before, but of course with this many teens in one place, living under one roof, hormones would be flying against the wall. What surprised her the most was that no one was alone, everyone was either in a group or in pairs, the dynamic here blew her mind. They stuck together not because they were forced to, or because they had similar sob stories, no, they stuck together because they wanted to. Because standing together despite being abandoned by their families was a lot less heart wrenching than standing alone.

As she continued to scan the crowd, her theory of sticking together failed. There was one boy, who seemed to have been watching her this whole time. His hair was black, darker than the night sky, and eyes blue-green of what would be the most beautiful lagoon, like the ones Clarke used to read about. The look in those eyes though, made her want to vomit, because it was a look Clarke knew all too well.

“That’s Atom, he used to be in Alpha Squad but got demoted,” Finn quipped in following her line of sight. Octavia tensed in front of her, spoon shaking in her hand as she played with her food.

“Why did he get demoted?” The group around her silenced. Finn didn’t have that smile on his face, and he even refused to look at her instead focusing on the wrapping around his tomato less pieces of bread. She searched for Raven’s eyes, but they didn’t make contact with her either, finally Octavia sighed and gave in.

“We had a thing, like a tiny fling when Bellamy brought him here a year ago, but then big brother found out and well, you can imagine the rest,” Octavia explained looking slightly torn but mostly disgusted with her brother. Clarke nodded, trying to seem like she understood but truthfully she didn’t. She never had someone be so overprotective with her, even her own mother wasn’t that bad. And the males in her family consisted of her father who died before seeing her fall in love or be in an actual relationship, and Wells who had a crush on her once upon a time and even then he wasn’t a jealous protective freak.

“Must suck,” Raven supplied and before anyone else could get a word in, Monty and Jasper joined the table crackling at something that happened in the engineer room. Behind them, blonde hair and a quirky smile, Wick, who Clarke learned his first name was Kyle, came pulling up a chair from the next table over and dragging it so he sat side by side with Raven.

She heard Raven groan but that seemed to make Wick’s smile broaden as he settled in to eat. From there the conversations took off, the awkwardness between Finn and Raven still present but hiding behind Jasper’s loud laughter and Wick’s retelling of what actually happened in the engineering room. Clarke chanced a glance at Atom who was still sitting alone, not eating, not paying attention to anyone else but her, and Clarke’s heart jittered in her chest.

\---

“So that seaweed you were mentioning, I know where it is,” Octavia said as she walked into the medbay the next morning. It was quiet, Harper and Clarke were sitting on the bench doing inventory of the supplies and medicinal plants.

“That’s cool and all but we really need to get this done before another patient arrives,” Harper rushed out, going back to counting the cotton balls and cloth wraps.

“Did you tell your brother?” Clarke asked picking up her pen and writing down the final numbers of each of the herbs in the jars in front of her.

“Yes, and he said he doesn’t have time to run around getting the ‘princess’ what she needs,” Clarke rolled her eyes and Octavia stepped closer to her continuing, “which is why I am here to help you, the seaweed you mentioned, it’s the orange stringy looking one right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Clarke nodded, “but we can’t go beyond the wall—”

“It’s not beyond the wall, it’s like a twenty-minute walk to the lake,” she explained. Clarke didn’t realize there was a lake around here, which was stupid because obviously they had to get their water supply from somewhere, yet when she came here on her first night she never saw any sign of a body of a water around.

“Ok, we’ll have to go now while it’s quiet, lunch ends soon and the line-up will start ten minutes after,”

With that, they bid Harper goodbye and left the dropship with a backpack and four containers, Clarke didn’t know when they’d be able to go back to the lake again. They walked down the rolling hills and well paved path before the lining of tall green trees welcomed them. Clarke realized that they were walking in the complete opposite direction of where the wall is.

The Dropship’s location was strategically placed so that no one accidentally found it. It was located in front of a road that was abandoned and probably forgotten because no cars have come by since she came. On either side of it, about a mile down, were several patches of green before meeting the woods or the outer side of Arkadia near the wall. The guards and patrols are too busy making sure that no one enters or exits that they don’t bother searching the surrounded area which makes it easier for the crew at the Dropship to live out their days without so much worry.

“Is Atom the one you tried protecting,” Clarke asked the question that’s been eating her up since she found out his history with Octavia.

“No, we were together for like ten days before Bellamy flipped shit,” she trotted up ahead guiding them.

“What happened?”

“Basically, Bell found him in an ally in Arkadia with a broken arm and bruises,” she peeked over her shoulder at Clarke, “his father used to beat him,” she sighed but it came out softer, in sorrow, “he saw me. I mean he really saw me, made me feel wanted and pretty and I could have fallen in love with him. I tried to talk to him after but he gave me the cold shoulder and pushed me away. I was pissed at Bellamy for weeks after, but then I realized that if he didn’t care about me enough to fight for me than why should I bother?”

Clarke admired her then. She knew how easy it was to fall for the idea of being wanted, feeling like you are loved or can be. She didn’t know Octavia’s story, not clearly, not from her anyway, but she did understand how love can be welcoming especially when you’ve been alone your entire life.

“You shouldn’t,” she smiled soft at her, “but you guys mentioned he was demoted, what does he do now?”

“I don’t know, never talked to him after what happened. We kind of went our separate ways and I think he hated me for what I indirectly did to him,”

“His loss,”

“I know, bastard missed out,” Octavia joked and Clarke giggled, genuinely, for the first time in a long time. They continued to walk until they found the lake. Clarke spotted the seaweed first, telling Octavia to wait where she is while she goes to get it.

She smelled the fresh air, felt the cool breeze that came from being close to the water. It was longer and wider than she expected it to be. She could faintly make out the lines indented deep below where the pipes probably ran. There were large boulders surrounding the area and since the woods on this side of Arkdaia stretched far, the place was secluded. If they weren’t on a tight schedule she would have explored, maybe even scouted an escape route for when she needs a quick getaway, if she wasn’t able to succeed in her mission.

“Octavia, can you toss me another container?” She asked looking up from gathering the orange slimy leaves, but Octavia wasn’t around. Getting up quickly, she moved around the water to where she last saw Octavia but she wasn’t there. The place around her was dead silent and she knew she was alone. She pushed past a couple of boulders before hitting the ground running through the trees in the direction she believed Octavia would have wondered to. Branches were scrapping her arms and one cut a thin strip of skin on her cheek but she didn’t care, kept moving forward, pushing faster.

She came to a clearing where she found the brunette circling a beaten down, dark brown wooden farmhouse.

“Octavia!” Clarke shouted out of breath. Octavia jumped slightly her eyes widening as she took in the blonde’s tired state, “What the fuck?” Clarke asked her making her way closer to her.

“Sorry, Ok, listen,” she tried to reason but Clarke was furious and her heart was still pounding hard from the scare she had and all the running she did.

“You didn’t come with me just to get the fucking seaweed, you came to see whoever you were protecting,” Clarke put it together looking at her accusingly. Octavia gave a nod with sad eyes and if Clarke wasn’t about to faint she would have felt sorry for her.

“Clarke, I need to see him,” she begged, and Clarke’s eyes soften at that. She knew love like that, desperation, need to save someone but feeling helpless. With Octavia’s situation and her overbearing brother, the yearning in her voice hurt Clarke. She gave her a curt nod finally catching her breath before speaking.

“Fine, but it has to be quick, we’ve been gone too long and it’s a long walk back,” she agreed turning to examine the trees that surrounded them. There was no sign of anyone else.

“He’s late, he said he was coming,” Octavia muttered frantically. Clarke didn’t know who ‘he’ was but she hoped he would show because the girl in front of her was close to tears and Clarke didn’t know if she could handle that.

They waited ten minutes more before Clarke got up from leaning against the side of the house and motioning for Octavia that they have to leave now. Octavia took one more pleading glance at the woods and nodded in defeat.

“Just let me look around one last time,” she said walking away and around the farmhouse. It was a large house, slightly shaped like a barn with a wide front porch and huge shutter windows, it had a smell, and the mold oozing out of it was unsettling. She tried hard not to imagine what it would have looked like years back, the family that would have lived here, probably now long gone.

“Ok, Octavia, let’s go,” Clarke called out, but received no response. She sighed and walked over to the back of the house but Octavia was nowhere to be seen. She was just about to shout her name again when she felt something hard hit her head, and her eyes rolled back as she felt her body go limp.

 

“Oh look, Princess is up,” a sneering unfamiliar voice whispered in her ear. She jolted back only to find that her hands were tied up, pressing deep into her backbone and her feet tied up right in front of her. She looked around hastily trying to find Octavia, when she spotted the girl in tears with a cloth tightly secured around her mouth and feet and hands tied together like her own.

“W-what?” Clarke asked still in a haze from the hard blow against her head.

  
“No no, stay awake, Beautiful, I need you to talk to mommy so she knows you’re still alive,” the voice teased pulling her hair back with a solid tug. She met those blue-green lagoon-like eyes with shock. Atom let her strands loose coming around to kneel in front of her, “Does Blake know you like your hair pulled?” he smirked and she fought the urge to spit in his face. She can’t provoke him, not with Octavia on the other side of the room, and his unstable state. She realized that they were inside the dirty farmhouse, he had a lantern on one side of the large room light gleaming against Octavia’s tears and a torch on the other side letting her see his traitorous face clearly.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting what I deserve,” he answered with a shrug, “your little friend here ruined my life,” he all but growled at Octavia, “So now I’m going to let her watch as I send you off to Jaha with information about how to kill her son-of-a-bitch brother and then I’m going to kill her,” he smiled wickedly pulling out a knife. He walked out of the room when a ring was heard, smirking at them once before leaving.

“Octavia, when they come to get me I’ll try to stall them and him as much as possible. You need to run,” Octavia screamed through the gag but Clarke shook her head quickly, “Hey, no it’s okay, you need to run. I won’t let them do anything to the Dropship but I need you to kick, scream, fight your way away from him.” She explained fixing her with a steady gaze. Octavia nodded her head up and down in two quick strides, eyes blazing with determination. Clarke sighed relieved and promised herself that when her mother or whoever was coming to take her away came, that she wouldn’t let them see Octavia or hurt her.

“Mommy’s coming,” Atom announced walking back into the room. He twirled his knife in his hand coming to stand in front of Octavia this time.

“Don’t touch her!” Clarke bit out in anger. He chuckled darkly turning to look at her with raging eyes.

“Funny how you easily defend this girl you don’t know,” he faced Octavia again getting closer to her, “Does she know how you threw yourself at me, wide open, wet and ready?” he grazed his knife along her cheek watching in enjoyment as the tears rushed down. Clarke battled the bile that rose in her throat, thrashing around to somehow get loose. Atom glanced at her over his shoulder and before she can spit at him or curse his name, he fell back with his mouth a gap.

“Fucker,” Octavia swore, pulling a knife Clarke hadn’t seen from Atom’s abdomen. She must have had the knife tucked in somewhere Atom didn’t bother checking. She went to go untie her feet but she wasn’t quick enough because in seconds Atom reached out slicing her exposed collar bone while his other hand pressed against his wound.

Clarke moved quick, her head snapping when she felt movement come from outside the farmhouse. She shuffled on her butt across the floor to where the torch was and kicked it until it fell in front of her sending the floor to go up in flames. She twisted until her hands were above the fire, burning the rope in between them as well as the skin of her fingers. She cried out in pain and a second later her hands were free. She quickly went to untie her feet when she looked over to find that Octavia was lying on the floor and two figures were fighting near her. She could see one of them being Atom but couldn’t tell who the other person was.

The smoke filled her lungs and blurred her vision, she rushed to Octavia’s side tugging her up and putting half her weight into her side as she struggled to get them out. The second figure must have knocked Atom out because he came closer to them taking Octavia from Clarke and carrying her out of the house.

The outside air welcomed them as they moved to get further away from the fire. Clarke noticed the figure must be the ‘he’ Octavia was waiting for. He lifted her delicately, placing her to the side assessing her cuts and scrapes.

“We need to put the fire out before anyone sees the smoke rise, or a forest fire starts!” Clarke called to him but if he heard her, he made no indication continuing to assess and aid Octavia’s helpless body. Movement from the left side of the burning wooden house caught her eye and the relief filled her body up when she saw Miller and a group of Alpha Squad come into view. Miller nodded his understanding to her and he directed the group to put the fire out.

“We need to get out of here fast, Atom called the council, my mom is coming,”

“We know, Raven intercepted the call. Thanks to you, we were able to monitor all calls incoming and outgoing that are made by the council,” Miller said patting her back before going to check on Octavia.

“How did you know where to find us?”

“Harper told us where you two were after you were an hour late coming back,” he explained.

She watched on as group of well-trained fighters put out the fire using the water from the lake. They worked a system, moving back and forth efficiently until the fire was completely out leaving a fog of dark cloud above them.

It was then that she noticed Bellamy. Furious, with his jaw clenched and eyes dark, he was carrying a limp body in his arms before throwing it to the ground. Clarke’s stomach twisted. Around her Alpha Squad were now making their way back to the Dropship and Miller followed Octavia’s savior as he carried her. No one looked over at their rebel leader or her.

“Bellamy,” she murmured, but he gave her a cold look that sent ice rushing through her veins.

He looked at the body in front of him, disgust and hatred covering every inch of his freckled face. He turned the head of the body over with the toe of his boot so he was looking at Atom’s face.

“Bellamy,” she tried again, but this time he didn’t even acknowledge her. He bent down, prying the knife that was frozen in Atom’s hand. From where she stood, Clarke could see Atom’s eyes shifting in fear, his breath wheezing out of him and burns covering ninety percent of his body, he was a fighter, and she couldn’t help but think what a shame it must be to lose someone like him. All because Bellamy let his ego and anger consume him.

Now she was angry, Atom may be a dick, and what he just did wasn’t and will never be excusable but he was a shattered boy who came to find refuge in a place that claimed to welcome all misfits and unwanted members of this world, and yet he was refused, even then. She stepped closer and bent down on the opposite side of Bellamy. He looked up at her with furrowed brows but she threw a sharp glare at him taking the knife from between his hand. She focused on Atom’s shriveled body in front of her.

“Pl..e... ase…k…ill…me” he wheezed out taking up whatever energy he had left. Clarke nodded, gripping the knife tighter. She was aware of the brown eyes on her, and how the world suddenly seemed to stop. The faint smell of burning wood and a hue of smoke covered them as she continued to stare at the dying boy in front of her.

“Ok,” she whispered, gripping the knife tighter, she inched closer, hesitantly running her hand down the back of his head. His dark hair, sweaty and filled with ash and dust, she petted him over and over, “Ok,” she repeated as he looked up at her, waiting, gasping for air.

Soft flesh met the blade, a pool of red was dripping out of the cut and she watched it coat the knife and then the side of his neck puddling on the ground in the area around her. Slowly, Atom gave out a final wheeze, his eyes rolling back, body stilling. Clarke’s fingers continued to sooth him, running down his hair, over and over, when she recognized that Miller had come back. She didn’t make eye contact with him nor Bellamy. She simply stood up from her crouched position, fingers and shoes covered in dirt and blood, she pushed through following the path that the others had gone down. She didn’t see any of them though, figuring that they must have reached the Dropship by now or were nearly there.

The woods were unmoving and quiet, almost like they knew what had just happened. Her sobs caught in her throat, tears burning her eyes threatening to spill. She didn’t want to cry, but if she had to release this pent up pain, if she had to grieve a boy who tried to kill her, if she had to come to terms with what her life has become, then crying in the middle of the abandoned woods would be the best way to do it. So she did, she cried and muffled the sound of her sobs with her palm pressed tightly over her lips. What happened, brought back memories she fought hard to suppress, it made her realize more clearly that she cannot and will not run from her fate. No matter what changes she hopes to make in this world, no matter how hard Lexa or Bellamy or even fucking Jaha fought, the outcome for her, would always be the same.

She gathered herself up, wiping her tears with the back of her hand hurriedly before Miller and Bellamy came back from burying the body. She sprinted through the forest, in between the tears, leaving behind the forgotten seaweed and the smell of death and fire.

 

It was hours past dinner time, long after she usually went to sleep when she was coming back from the medbay. She spent the rest of her time there, hiding from everyone and everything. The steady flow of patients allowed for the distraction she desperately sought. Harper and Monty having heard all about her adventure were eerily whispering to each other unsure of how to approach her, but she shrugged it off and conversed with them first, playing it off as another one of the terrors she needs to get used to while being here.

She was walking back to her room when Jasper called her name. The door to his shared room with Monty was wide open, Raven was there, sitting on one of the beds crossed legged.

“Hey, I think I’m just going to head to bed,” she jerked her thumb across the hall to her own room but Monty came up from behind her guiding her into his room, Harper following closely.

“No, we need to drink our worries away with the shitty moonshine that Jasper made!”

“Hey! It’s not that bad,”

“Yes it is, that’s what you get for making it without me,” Monty rolled his eyes handing a cup to Harper and Clarke. Clarke ignored their banter, taking a seat next to Raven who looked at her with worried eyes.

“How’s Octavia?” Clarke asked no one in particular. After coming back from the woods she raced to the medbay only to find Octavia hadn’t been there, she wanted to go search for her, make sure she was okay but then some guy came in with a bad cold and the idea of going back out there and possibly running into Bellamy was enough to keep her in place.

“She’s fine, Lincoln took care of her,” Clarke faced Raven who was staring at her lap, twisting a piece of metal in her hand, it was in the shape of a bird. Lincoln must have been the Grounder Octavia was in love with, the one she was trying to protect weeks ago.

“Miller told me you intercepted the call Atom made,” it wasn’t supposed to be a question but Clarke couldn’t help her questioning tone. Raven only nodded, taking a long sip of the cup in her own hand.

“Yeah, he thought he was speaking to them when he was actually talking to Bryan who pretended to be one of the council men. He wanted details on the reward he’d get for bringing you in, wanted to see if you were worth it or if he could make a pass by asking for more,”

“How did he even know about that, I thought we were the only ones who saw my mom’s message?” Raven sighed shrugging her shoulders.

“It was televised everywhere, he might have gotten his hands on it somehow, or eavesdropped like the creep he was,” she said, taking another sip from her cup. In all the times Clarke has spoken to Raven, never did she see her look so beat up. She had witnessed her in a compromising position at the hospital all those years ago, seen the tension between her and Finn but it was in this moment that Clarke looked at this nineteen year old girl and felt the pressure on her shoulders.

“Boss man,” Jasper shrieked in glee causing everyone to snap their heads to the figure standing outside the door. Clearly Jasper’s shitty moonshine wasn’t as shitty as they thought, because he was practically skipping over to greet Bellamy when he tripped falling head first onto the floor at the side of his bed.

“Griffin,” Bellamy’s eyes grazed over hers, she sighed handing her full cup to Raven and walking outside the room to meet him in the hall. They stood facing each other, she waited for him to speak first seeing as he’s the one who called her over but it turns out he was waiting on her.

“What? You have nothing to say now?” she questioned, all the anguish from earlier today that she tried so hard to ignore came rushing back. She remembered the look of pure hatred and violence that glossed over his eyes earlier today.

“What do you want me to say?” His voice gruff with a harsh edge. Truthfully, she didn’t know what she wanted him to say. An apology from him was unlikely, and what happened today wasn’t really his fault, yet she couldn’t help squinting in annoyance.

“You took my sister out, without my fucking permission, got her tied up and nearly killed and you’re the one angry?” he probed, eyes livid.

“You’re joking,” she gasped out utterly enraged now, he couldn’t seriously be mad at her. “You don’t own me Bellamy, I can leave this Dropship whenever I want, and I wouldn’t have had to leave if you weren’t being a dick and refusing to get me the seaweed I asked for. And for the record, I had no clue she was meeting that guy. She lied to me too.” But before he can unleash his wrath she started again, “Oh, and she’s a big girl, she handled herself extremely well today, she actually saved us! But you don’t care about that?” she watched him get wilder, brows furrowed, and his frown creating creases she was sure were going to be there forever, “You don’t care about that because everyone is put on a leash with you, it’s what caused Octavia to go out there today, it’s what caused Atom to go bat shit crazy, and it’s what caused me to kill him!” she all but yelled in his face, her own turning red and scary.

The voices that could be heard on the other side of the wall and through the open door ceased. Her own heavy breathing mixed with the sound of his, echoed throughout the skybox and if she wasn’t so tired she probably would have screamed at him louder or pushed him out of her way and ran out. Nevertheless, she stood still, claiming her ground and feeling entitled for her anger.

“Stay away from my sister,” he gritted out, hands balled into fists clenching at his sides, “Watch yourself, the next mistake you make will cost you,” he threatened.

“Please Blake,” she scoffed shaking her head at him, her lips parted wanting to shove his threat back in his face when he slammed her against the wall with a loud thump.

“You can claim that you want to help, hell you can repeat it over and over, to yourself, to the Grounders, even to Spacewalker, but I don’t give a shit about that anymore. Stay away from my sister and mind your own business or you’ll be thrown out.”

He bent his head down so they were nose to nose, his breath fanning the corner of her mouth and his iron grip tight on her arms. His words met her ears with a sting and she must have let out a gasp or something because soon Raven came out with the rest of them trailing after her. He let her go and she shoved his chest back, swallowing the burning sensation climbing up her throat and shoving back tears. She will not cry, not again, and especially especially not in front of Bellamy Blake.

“Fuck off,” she spat out at him, moving past the group that gathered around them and across the hall to her own room. She fell back onto her bed, fighting to keep the tears at bay. Today was the one and only time she would let herself cry, and she already gave in to it in the woods. She can’t let her walls down again, not when there was so much at stake now. Bellamy didn’t trust her, and even if he had the tiny sliver of trust in her before, it was long gone now. But, she realized, she didn’t need his trust. She just needed his people to listen, and that’s what she’ll do, she’ll get them to hear her.

Peace, based on an alliance or treaty, was an option and she was going to make sure they all knew.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the great feedback and kudos!
> 
> New chapter every week or so :)

7.

It was early the next morning when Clarke found herself sitting on the pale blue bench in the med room. She had been up for hours, falling in and out of sleep before huffing up and out of bed. She swore she heard Raven sigh in relief and felt a twinge of guilt for keeping her up with all the noise she was making.

She wasn’t exactly sure what kept the gears in her head turning, it could have been the haunting smell of smoke and the sensation of flames, the burnt skin around her fingers a constant reminder, or it could have been the oh so flattering conversation she had with a certain sun-kissed freckled front-runner who threatened to end her existence. Either way, the nightmares were all too consuming and Clarke was terrified of what would happen if she slept for longer than ten minute intervals.

She really tried not to pay attention to the four containers filled with the orange seaweed she’d abandoned yesterday. She didn’t want to think about how that had been a trip from hell, or if the notorious leader himself went out of his way to put it in the med room to greet her when she’d come in this morning. Bellamy confused her like nothing else, not even the world beyond the wall was as confusing as he was. One minute he was this flirty confident guy and the next he was stone-cold and heartless.

“I see you’re up early too,” Clarke’s head shot up to see the brunette whose hair was pinned back revealing her healing scar across her collar bone and cheek, lingering at the door way. She turned her attention back to the book in her hand, pressing the cover deeper into her thigh forcing herself to focus on the words on the pages.

“I’m so sorry Clarke, really I am,” Octavia pleaded coming to stand in front of her. She shook her head, glaring at the same paragraph she’s been trying to read for over half an hour, “I heard my brother gave you shit,” Clarke scoffed shifting her gaze to meet Octavia’s. She watched as the girl in front of her rubbed her lips together unsure of what to say next, so Clarke waited patiently.

When no words came, Clarke gave a dark chuckle shaking her head, she hopped off the bench and moved past Octavia to the other side of the room.

“Clarke wait, I’m sorry about Bell—”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about your brother,” Clarke interrupted her voice hoarse yet determined, “You don’t get it do you? Neither of you do! Octavia I was worried about you. I didn’t care about my mother finding us, or Bellamy throwing a hissy fit, I was worried about you! That you wouldn’t make it! But that’s beside the point,” Clarke’s blond hair twisted with her as she turned to place the book on the counter of the sink, “You lied to me. You let me think that you were helping me find medicine, medicine that would help save your friends here, when really you were meeting up with your boyfriend.” She stepped closer to Octavia now, watching as her eyes started tearing and her body shaking briefly with nerves.

“Tell me Octavia, which part should I be hurt by the most? The fact that you tricked me, or the fact that you truly believed you couldn’t tell me the truth?” Clarke asked, hands placed on her hips now and a defeated look plastered across her face.

“Clarke, I didn’t know you, not like I do now,” Octavia reasoned with a shaky breath, “I didn’t know how you’d react,”

“So you thought the best thing to do was take me to the lake while you skipped over to an abandoned farmhouse? What you didn’t think I’d notice you gone?”

“He was late,”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” Clarke screamed now, she sighed deeply regretting her outburst instantly. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet, and while the trainees for Alpha and Beta squad were most likely up starting on their drills for the day, the rest of the Dropship was sound asleep.

“I’m sorry,” Octavia whispered, lacing her fingers together and resting her palms against her abdomen.

“I know,” Clarke nodded, “me too.”

Octavia stayed put for the next minute, which felt like the longest minute of Clarke’s life. She refused to meet her waiting gaze, fighting with the Blakes took up way too much energy, Clarke cursed herself for not getting a good night’s sleep.

“Ok, well, I’ll see you around?” Octavia asked hopeful taking a step to the door.

“Not likely,” Clarke said coldly, striding past her once more to count the cotton pads and sterile wipes that didn’t ever need to be counted. She heard the sad sigh and shuffling of feet exit the room and she was alone once more.

 

It was lunch time when a familiar face rolled around taking confident steps closer to Clarke as she washed her hands. She had just stitched up an eight-year old’s left foot all because his buddies told him they didn’t think he could jump from the top of the second floor staircase to the bottom floor. He couldn’t, his foot got caught in between the metal rails ripping at his skin.

“Princess,”

“Finn,” she acknowledged sparring him a glance over her shoulder.

“Do you remember how we had lunch a couple weeks ago, and you left me hanging half way through?” she turned to face him now, taking in his shorter hair and flirtatious smirk, “Well I told you that you’d owe me and that we’d finish it so…” he trailed off pulling a beigeish brown basket from behind his back.

“I thought we did finish it, yesterday, in the cafeteria,” she challenged, raising an eyebrow. He chuckled shaking his head.

“No that doesn’t count, everyone was there,” he explained face morphing to show distaste and she fought the smile threatening to make its way over her lips.

“Sorry, but I can’t, there are like two more kids to see, and it’s getting closer to flu season,”

“What if I promise not to call you princess the entire time?”

“No,”

“I’ll never barge in here demanding to have lunch with you again,”

“Tempting, but no,” she deadpanned moving to the side only to have him side-step and stand in her way.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about Skicru,”

“Monty, I’m taking my lunch!” she called to the Asian boy who was engrossed in a deep conversation with Harper, blushing slightly. His head snapped to hers when he heard her call his name, “and you have two more patients left,” she pointed at the two girls with the sweats, looking yellow and nauseous. She felt bad for leaving them, but she needed answers, and after her shit of a night, she couldn’t wait any longer.

Finn took the lead and guided her up the stairs to the third floor. She even let him hold her hand as they walked down corridor after corridor before climbing a few more steps she had never seen before, coming to face a large metal door with a lock. She gave Finn a questioning look to which he just smirked and went to work picking the lock. She scanned their surroundings, she hasn’t been to the third floor since coming to check on Octavia after she hurt herself. She made it her mission, well her second mission, to avoid this part of the Dropship, however, it must be the part that was the biggest because each time she came she couldn’t, for the life of her, remember where any of the rooms were.

A soft click came from the door and Finn opened it wide enough for her to step through. The fresh air hugged her tight and she breathed deeply not knowing how much she actually needed this. Finn’s hand still in her own, he walked them over to middle of the flat roof where a couple of lawn chairs bursting at the seams sat basking in the sunlight.

“Your throne,” he winked, pushing her to take a seat. Afraid that the chair will break, Clarke sat down anyway, turning to face the boy who carried the majority of her hope right now.

“Thanks,” she hummed, going for the picnic basket in his hand. His chuckle echoed in the cool air as he took a seat in the chair next to hers, “Now let’s get to the answers,” she said eagerly. Finn laughed this time, not an amused chuckle but a full on belly shaking laugh. She froze, caught off guard and slightly embarrassed.

“Should’ve known you’re all business, what do you want to know?” he asked, prying the basket from her hands after she’d pulled out a container filled with what looked to be nuts and berries.

“Everything,” she jumped right into it, “everything about Skicru and the last couple of years. Tell me about the rebellion, I’ve only ever heard the gist of it and after being here it feels like I know less somehow,” Finn cupped the back of his head, rubbing the skin on his neck and looking pained, like he missed the length of his hair.

“Where do I start?” he mumbled,

“The beginning,” Clarke supplied, popping a berry into her mouth. Finn nodded and began his tale.

“Well, I guess I can only start from when I first came here, which was about three years ago,” Clarke nodded, she already knew this, having heard it from Raven that night at the Ark Hospital, but she munched on the berries and nuts letting him give her the details, “I came with Raven. Her mother left her when she was fifteen, practically dropped her on our front porch and ran away. Her tracker said she was in Mount Weather Woods and when the authorities got there, they found her dead.” Mount Weather Woods was the deadliest part of Arkadia. While the woods closer to the Dropship carried ancient buildings, and the unexpected fallen log, the MW Woods ran along the south side of the wall. The trees looming over too big to cut, and occupied by the scariest and most lethal animals known to mankind since the nuclear war.

Not to mention the oxygen levels in that area were oddly low, even among that many trees, the radioactivity must have messed up the chemical balance because staying in the forest for longer than an hour can cause severe brain damage. Which makes the creatures living there that much more fearsome because anything that needs oxygen and yet can survive without it, can cause more harm than you can ever imagine. Jaha enforced double barbed wired fences, and pushed back the civilization closer to City Hall, when incident after incident arose of attacks coming from the area close to the woods.

“My parents took her in, and we grew up together. We weren’t the best of friends at first but with time we managed to get along. She was the only one who understood me,” he said wistfully, “Anyways, so one night, I guess it was getting closer to the anniversary of her mother’s death, she wanted to go to MW Woods. I guess she needed closure or to see for herself what happened on those grounds,” he lifted the flask of moonshine he pulled out of the basket to his lips taking a long drag, “So I took her, we went at dawn when it was late enough that we could sneak past the guards but still light so we can make our way through the woods fine without flashlights or drawing attention to ourselves. Long story short, they heard us, and I couldn’t let Raven get caught because she was eighteen,”

“And you weren’t,” Clarke finished his thought. He nodded grim, “That’s why they call you Spacewalker?” He nodded again, smirking slightly.

“So you’ve heard about that, eh?” she rolled her eyes urging him to continue.

“I took the fall for it, but the next day she came to visit me while I was locked up, only to see her with Sinclair. Together, they got me out. We ditched our chips, grabbed whatever we could and ran here. Bellamy was expecting us,”

“How did he know?”

“He has inside men,” Finn explained, leaning forward in his chair, “Skicru is different than any other group in Arkadia. They have the brains of the smartest mechanics and engineers, the toughest guards and fighters, and the power that the council members so desperately want. Bellamy runs a tight ship. The kids who are brought here young are leaving poverty or unfair lock up because their parents fucked up. So there’s someone on the other side taking out their chips, securing them save passage to get them here, where they stay and live out their days until they are old enough to help out.”

Clarke noted how she never did see many younger members or Skicru visiting the med room except the occasional cold or play incident like the boy she helped stich up earlier today. She held out the container to Finn who smiled at her, taking a handful of the roasted nuts and red berries.

“What about Marcus Kane? Isn’t he the one who established these connections?”

“Yep” Finn nodded, dumping the contents of his palm into his mouth in one go, he crunched loudly before swallowing, “He’s built a network of trusted people in Arkadia in every aspect and location you can think of. He reached out to people, understood them and the injustice they faced. He created Skicru to represent a team of survivors, but shit happens and less and less people, adults, vocalized their support,”

Clarke remembered that. She was young, but she remembered her mother shaking her head in disbelief as she and her father watched Thelonious Jaha make an announcement that anyone who joined Kane’s crowd of felons would be executed on sight. Skicru then became a place of refuge for the innocent children and not-so-innocent children who were fucked over by Akradia.

“Where is he now?” Clarke asked, but Finn ignored her. She knew he heard her question, and she knew that he knew the answer, but she decided to keep her mouth shut and play along. He was the only one willing to tell her anything at all, and she would find out soon enough anyways.

“When Kane found Bellamy six years ago, they worked closely, side by side. I guess Bellamy was like the son Kane never had. Before disappearing, Kane left Bellamy in charge with full responsibility of the kids, the Dropship, and the rebellion. Some people believe he has a laid out plan that Bellamy is following and others think that Blake is doing whatever the hell he wants with us,” he bumped his shoulder with Clarke’s playfully but her mind was somewhere else.

“So if Kane was responsible for the connections inside Arkadia, then how did you guys build the connection with the Grounders?” Clarke asked face scrunched up in confusion.

“Bellamy did, I actually don’t know how he found out about them, but he did and one day they were just giving us supplies and trading information with us,” Finn seemed to just then realize that he didn’t know much about the Grounders either, a lot more than she did for sure, but not enough to keep away the confusion that was now etched on his face.

“What about Octavia, did Kane find her too?”

“No, she was rescued—”

The sound of the metal door clanking open made them jump. Raven came into view, looking across the roof hurriedly before landing on them. The hurt in her eyes was clear, probably even more so with the sun shining so brightly against them. Clarke soared out of her seat taking a step away from Finn. She didn’t know the exact history between them, although Finn told her of their closeness, she knew there was more to it. But what she really knew was that she did not want to get in the middle of whatever drama was going on between them.

“Uh, there’s something I have to show you,” Raven stuttered on her words motioning over her shoulder with her chin, “another broadcast,” Clarke brushed past Finn who grasped her wrist.

“I hope this wasn’t all because I have such valuable information,” Finn said and while the words were teasing, his tone was genuine. Clarke was well aware of Raven’s gaze on them, and while she didn’t want to get involved in this unbearable tension, she appreciated Finn’s kindness and his help. He was the only one here who took her seriously and answered her questions, most of them anyway.

“You know it was, but thank you, next time it might not be for that reason alone,” she smiled and she had meant for it to be polite but when she saw his full blown grin she had to bite her lip from matching it. She pulled away, rushing after Raven trying to mentally prepare herself for whatever bullshit decided to show up today.

Apparently she didn’t prepare well enough because when she entered the engineering room she was welcome with Wells’ face, paused, on the large screen in front of her. Bryan played the video when Raven patted his shoulder.

“Clarke! If you’re out there, if you can hear this message I need you to come home. I understand what you’re going through but it’s not safe for you out there. I’m sorry for everything, just come home. Please.” The tremble in her best friend’s voice would have broken her down, and if that didn’t do it then seeing him, tall dark and handsome, the young boy she once knew with unbelievable hope in his eyes and the desire to only do good, would have done it. But she was caught up in his actual words. I understand what you’re going through? He clearly didn’t, if he truly did understand then he wouldn’t ask her to come home. And he needed her? What happened to when she needed him, when she begged him to save her father?

“Your boyfriend seems worried,” Raven’s dry tone surprised her, but after what she may or may not have walked in on, on the roof, she understood. She turned her gaze to look around the room, she noticed Bryan manning the controls keeping his eyes strictly on the keyboard in front of him, Raven had her arms crossed eyes shifting from her to Finn who was standing inches away, and Wick who played with some tool in his hand pretending to look busy. She turned to walk out of the room, when she saw Bellamy, leaning against the back wall watching her. They stared at each other, his arms were crossed over his chest, shoulders pushing into the wall.

“I want to send them a message,” Clarke said suddenly to no one in particular, “A letter, or a voice recording; just something to let them know I’m alright and to back off,” she explained. The air getting harder to breath as her stare down with Bellamy continued. She curved to face Raven, who looked over her shoulder at Bellamy. He must have given her a nod or some sort of approval because she nodded back beaconing Clarke to come closer.

“When I point at you, record your message into this microphone here. We will send it to the council under an unknown server that they won’t be able to track back here,” Raven clarified, taking a second to work the system, she pointed at Clarke hitting the record button.

“Mom,” her voice shook no matter how hard she tried to control it, “I’m okay. I’m alive and doing fine. But I will not come home, I can’t. I need you to stop looking for me, stop sending out broadcasts and messages. I hope you can understand; I just need time.” She peered over at Raven who was about to take her finger off the record button when Clarke reached out her hand to stop her, “I know you did what you had to, and I believe you, but give me time to forgive you. You owe me that.” She lifted her hand off of Raven’s and nodded in confirmation that she was done.

The room felt too small and the silence was too loud but she ignored that, ignored the fact that she just gave them that much more of a glimpse into her past. She turned on her heel and left without uttering another word.

\----

“Clarke,” Miller called, she glanced over her shoulder coming to a begrudging halt.

“Hey,” he continued, “Just wanted to let you know we leave in half an hour.”

“Leaving where?” she asked confused.

“To Polis, make sure you bring whatever you need, we won’t be back until dawn,”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know…” she trailed off hoping he’d fill in the blanks. He raised an eyebrow in question before realization hit him.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” his mouth in an ‘o’ and voice a bit higher than normal. When she shook her head still very confused, “Typical,” he scoffed under his breath then he pressed his lips in a thin line and sighed, “You’re coming to Grationem Dan,”

Her surprised could not be masked, no matter how hard she tried to wipe the expression off her face. She swallowed lowly, wondering what kind of joke Miller was playing, but when he didn’t cringe or laugh she knew he was serious. She was going with them to Polis, where the Grounders would be celebrating unity and then be told that they must fight the worst war of their lives just to be able to breathe the free air, that they are entitled to, of this earth.

“No thanks, Nathan,” she bit out, angry at the fact that this day was even happening, and that the ‘he’ Miller was referring to was now the person she hated most. He was lumping her with the rest of the miserable and innocent people of Polis who, in two hours’ time, will have their fate sealed.

“He won’t like that,” Miller began but was cut off sharply.

“I don’t care,” she snapped, taking a step back away from the dark-skinned boy who was probably just as damaged as she was. After all, they were the only two people on the Dropship who came willingly, “Sorry,” she muttered feeling bad, “I’m not going, you can tell Bellamy I’m tired, or sick, or better yet that I can’t be trusted. He’ll believe the last one, probably best to go with that.”

She turned to walk away not bothering to hear Miller’s words, or say anymore of her own. When she got back to her room, she found Raven shrugging on a grey jacket and tightening the straps of her black boots.

“Get ready quick, they say we won’t leave for another half hour but knowing Bellamy, and with Lincoln here, he’d want us to be out of here as soon as we can,” Raven said without making eye contact with Clarke. She worked around her grabbing a bag from the side of her bed and filling it up with books, weapons, some weird looking vials filled with even weirder looking juices and a sharp knife.

“I’m not going,” Clarke mumbled, dropping onto the pink couch she had slept on that first night. She tucked her legs under her and pulled out her sketch book.

“What? Why?” Raven stopped pacing around, lifting the bag and securing the strap over one shoulder. Clarke shrugged then peered over at her, she took in her appearance. Clarke always knew, from the minute Raven was hauled into the operating room how strong she was, but looking at her now, she was a fighter. With her clothes body-hugging and durable, the bag now resting by her hip, and her experienced eyes, she was sleek and ready for any attack.

“How’s your leg? Can you make the walk there?”

“It’s fine,” Raven grated out, hands crossed in front of her, ponytail high and tight.

“You know it’s not like that between me and Finn,” Clarke gulped, “He was offering me answers, answers you know I deserve. I came to you first Raven, I wanted you to help me, I asked for you when I first came here and not just because you were the only person I knew. I trusted you and thought you trusted me too,” she threw her sketchbook to the side, sitting up right now, “But you didn’t trust me, so no, I am not going to go to a place where some bitch is going to tell a bunch of innocent people that they have to fight to the death.”

Raven gawked at her, eyes still narrow and her stance still ridged. Clarke got up and side stepped around her to her cold bed, but she never made it because Raven grabbed her wrist gently, stopping her in place.

“You’re right, I’m sorry but some of the things here are not my stories or secrets to share. The whole Octavia-Lincoln thing was one of them, I probably should have mentioned that something was going on but at the end of the day it’s not my problem. And if you recall, you never asked me anything about me, Clarke. You’ve asked about Blake, about his past, the people on the Dropship but you never asked about me.”

Clarke’s mind went blank. She didn’t realize she had such arrogance in her. She was being selfish and a part of her knew but excused it for the simple reason of the grief and pain she’s suffered. Raven suffered too and now Clarke only heard half her story from someone who wasn’t her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Raven went on seeing the guilty expression on Clarke’s face, “I think you should come tonight. I think that you will understand why things have to happen the way they do.” She let go of her hand and walked towards the door but before leaving she placed a hand on the beam of the doorway and looked over her shoulder whispering, “And it’s okay about Finn, if it is like that I mean,” she paused, “I know how he can be,” and with that she left Clarke alone with too many thoughts to bare.

Raven was right. Clarke hated that. She hadn’t directly asked about her past, but it came from not wanting to get any more involved in these people’s lives. Not when she was planning to leave soon. After peace was established, she wasn’t going to stay, and getting closer to them would only make it that much more difficult to leave. She had done things before coming to Skicru and seeking their help, and the consequences and pain was slowly following her here.

Going to Grationem Dan might be a mistake, but she came here with a goal in mind, and then she was thrown in the dark. She needed to go, she had to if she was going to keep fighting off the idea of going to war. It can’t be what they wanted.

She shot up and grabbed her dark jacket, worn out and ripped leaving it pocket less and stringing out threads. She pulled her hair back in her own tight ponytail and rushed out the door almost forgetting to shut it closed. She hoped she would make it before the group left but when she got to the main floor and didn’t find anyone, she panicked. She rushed to the engineering room, running into a few members of Alpha Squad who told her that they last saw Bellamy with Octavia and that Grounder over an hour ago.

“They left already,” a sneer came from the other side of the room. The group of fighters looked over at the person leaning against the wall, nodded once, then walked out leaving her alone with the stranger.

“When? Raven left our room not even ten minutes ago,” she explained. He scoffed darkly stepping closer to her. He had a pointed nose, and gruesome eyes that gave the illusion that he’d seen terrible things in his life. He didn’t look a day over eighteen, Clarke was caught between feeling bad for him and wanting to run away as far and as fast as she can.

“She was the last one they were waiting on, I mean you could’ve been if little Blake fought hard enough to get big brother to wait five minutes more, but he couldn’t be bothered to wait for the princess to change her mind,” he ran his fingers through his hair slicking it back.

“Who are you?” Clarke asked, disgust imprinting over her face. He smiled wickedly, sauntering over to her.

“I’m your knight in shining armor,” he chuckled finding his own joke funny, “I’m going to take you after them.” He pointed to the back entry way of the Dropship.

“I’m good, thanks, I’ll find my own way,” she said backing away slowly afraid to turn her back. After Atom, she figured that however many people she’s met that embodied kindness, there were probably the same number if not more that embodied the complete opposite.

“No seriously, I was heading over there now,” he took another step towards her. She needed to think quick, if she ran he would catch her, and she didn’t have any sort of shield or weapon to delay his chase. So she used the only tool she could, she stepped forward taking him off-guard and pushed him backwards as strongly as she could then kneed him in the groin. He fell on his back to the floor, hands going to the area between his legs as he groaned in pain. She spun around and dashed to the back exist. She was welcomed by the darkness of the night right before she took off running.

She forced herself to look forward, don’t glance back no matter what she repeated over and over, but when she heard footsteps thudding after her she couldn’t resist. She peeked over her shoulder to find herself face to face with the scary stranger. He gripped her hips pulling her back into him.

“Hey!” she heard another male voice yell from behind them. She continued to thrash, kicking at the legs of her captor, “Murphy, let her go,” but the guy, Murphy, only strengthened his hold.

“Back off Collins, I was just helping her get to Polis,”

“Yeah, clearly,” Finn said coming into view. Clarke’s body warmed over with relief and she couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips. Murphy having heard it only smirked, letting his grasp go not after muttering something along the lines of “Bitch, you’re going to pay for what you did,” but she ignored him moving as far away from him as she could.

“I was going to Polis,” Murphy enunciated,

“Why didn’t you leave with the group that just left?” Finn questioned, now dressed in a nice fitting jacket, hair still short but long enough to flop over his forehead.

Clarke didn’t see him after sending out her message in the engineering room. She was so close to answers, finally, yet seeing Wells, and the way her throat closed up after Raven hit the send button, delivering her voice recording to her mother and the Chancellor, she couldn’t bring herself to go back to that rooftop.

“Why didn’t you?” Murphy questioned back. The two boys stood staring at each other, as if communicating telepathically. After a few more intense and seriously unnecessary silence, Murphy smirked and stepped to the side, “Lead the way,” he said.

Finn walked closer to Clarke, gripping her hand in his and leading them beyond the wall with Murphy in tow.

“So I see you’ve found yourself a girlfriend Spacewalker,” Murphy teased gripping the torch he lit up, tighter in his hand. They were in the dark tunnels, only able to see what was in front of them thanks to that torch but unfortunately it came with a cunning obnoxious mouth.

“Shut up Murphy,” Finn coolly replied, hand still holding Clarke’s. She tried to ignore his cold fingers, and clammy palm but with Murphy there and his vengeful threat she couldn’t risk letting go.

“Does she know what you did?” Finn tensed up beside her, his eyes glowing from the fire light and it seemed like he was really holding back from attacking Murphy in that moment.

“Why are you two going to Polis anyways?” Clarke asked wanting to change the topic right away. It was the right move to make because soon both boys relaxed going back to ignoring the other’s presence.

“I have some things to talk about with Bellamy,” Finn exhaled finally.

“That couldn’t have waited until he came back in the morning?”

“No,” he ran his free hand over his face, thumb pressing lightly to his eyes, “He’s agreeing to…do something that the Grounders want to do and I think there’s a better way,”

“He’s agreeing to go to war, and you want to stop it?” she asked in disbelief. Finn mirrored her expression not having known that she knew and met the girl who was imposing the act. He could only nod, and she could only nod along a smile threatening to slip.

“Yeah, me too,” she mumbled, earning a grin from Finn. She bit her lip looking down, her gaze falling briefly on Murphy who was watching her with something else. Almost like he couldn’t believe her, or like he expected more from her. It was a mixture of some kind of disappointment and he seemed really amused by her as well. She didn’t dwell on it any longer for they were at the ladder that will lead them up into Polis.

As she climbed to the top, Finn’s arm dangerously close to her lower back, she was met with the sound of distant chatter and the beat of drums.

“John!” a female voice cried out. Clarke only caught a blur of a shadow that whizzed past her and into the arms of Murphy. He tucked her close, burying his face into the side of her neck and hugging her tight. Her mouth opened in shock only to have Murphy open his eyes from over the woman’s shoulder and give her another unclear expression before lifting his middle finger at her.

She was tugged forward by Finn who led them through the woods to the glade she was in a few weeks ago. The atmosphere was much different than it was that warm morning in the market. The glade was lit up by the huge fire pit in the middle, with bursting flames going up higher. There were drummers sitting across to one side, hitting a contagious beat while a group of children danced around them. People filled the area up, glowing not only from the huge fire but the torches that circled the glade allowing Clarke to make out some of the people from Skicru. In the distant she can see Miller and Nyko using their hands actively as they spoke. She tried to find Raven, even Octavia who she hasn’t seen since this morning but no brunette came into view.

“How can they have all this, be this loud with that much smoke going up into the air” Clarke remarked glancing up at the smoke covered sky, “without getting caught? We aren’t even that far beyond the wall,”

“Everyone lives farther into Arkadia that they couldn’t see this even if they tried, and the guards are too scared to go beyond the wall so even if they do hear or see anything, which they can’t, they wouldn’t dare cross over,” Finn leaned down, explaining into her ear. She flinched back and told herself it was in surprise but the truth was that she was still on edge. Finn was kind to her, he spoke to her like a person and hoped for the same peace she wanted for all mankind without once mentioning how delusional she’s being, but his relationship with Raven and the words Murphy spoke moments ago rang in her ear. She couldn’t risk the plan, not for him.

“I’m going to go see if I can find any of the girls,” she let go of his hand delaying whatever response he was going to give by trekking up ahead and further into the festivities. She bumped into many different people trying to navigate her way through silently praying to run into Raven or Octavia or even Bellamy. It seemed as though her prayers were answered because not even a second later she was half trampled by a black haired girl who rushed into large tan arms.

Bellamy hugged the girl back, not noticing Clarke or anyone else. When they pulled apart, the girl moved closer to him tucking herself under his arm whispering things in his ear that got a smirk out of him. He played with the ends of her hair as she slid her hand up his chest leaning closer to him continuing to whisper things in his ear.

Clarke was taken back, not just by the sight but by the feeling that her heart had stopped. It was like she was hit over the head all over again, her hand absentmindedly going to the bruise, thanks to Atom, that was still tender. Her fingers then laced through her ponytail, running through her strands of gold.

This girl knew Bellamy well enough to be so close to him like that. Clarke wasn’t stupid, she knew he was attractive and she knew someone like him wouldn’t abstain from bedding the occasional gorgeous girl, but a Grounder out of all people. A Grounder when he didn’t trust her, his own people?

His hand now trailed down the girl’s side, playing with the edge of her cream colored shirt, alongside the slope of her hips. He had his t-shirt sleeves rolled up and she was toying with them trailing a finger down his bicep. Clarke stayed frozen, she knew she should have left by now but she couldn’t bring her feet to move. Her prayers weren’t as answered as she thought they were after all.

He met her gaze then, caught off guard himself but it quickly disappeared. He was staring at her as intently as he always did with the girl still in his arms, fingers trailing his chest, his torso, gripping at his shirt, and yet he didn’t look away from Clarke’s eyes. She felt herself go hazy and sick and like she needed to run. So she did, turning around and leaving him and the girl behind.

“That’s Echo,” someone said bringing her back to the world in front of her. She turned to find the youngest Blake nesting a glass cup in her hand filled to the rim with clear liquid she could only guess was moonshine.

“Who?” Clarke asked, stepping over a couple of branches that somehow found their way to the glade.

“The girl wrapped around my brother,” Octavia flicked her gaze further down to the group that surrounded a laughing Bellamy and the girl, Echo, plastering a bright smile on her face.

Bellamy’s face looked so much different when he laughed. She had never seen him laugh, never even seen him smile. All she ever saw, or received were scowls or death glares, but here he was smiling and laughing with a pretty brunette on his arm. Clarke wasn’t sure what to think of this situation, it confused her to no end, but then again, everything that he did confused her. She let her gaze linger a moment too long for he had spotted her through the crowd yet again. This time he didn’t lock eyes with her, he simply looked away, the soft smile from the laugh disappearing with him.

“Oh,” it was all Clarke could get out. She shook her head, gathering whatever logic was left and focused her gaze on the girl she had all but yelled at this morning. Octavia’s raven locks were up and away from her face in a half up do. Her gorgeous blue eyes glistened against the fire light and Clarke knew why Lincoln was so taken with her, why they risked their lives to venture off into the woods to meet in secluded places.

“So…” Octavia trailed off, firmly gripping the cup in her hand filled to the rim with, what Clarke could guess as, moonshine. Clarke avoided her, not knowing how to deal with the awkward situation. This morning she had felt used and like she couldn’t be trusted, like they just strung her along moving her one step forward only to push her ten steps back. She was tired of fighting with the Blakes, tired of being dismissed left to hang high and dry. As she was about to walk away from her, Octavia spoke.

“Well, welcome to Grationem Dan,” Octavia gestured to the area around them. Clarke gave a slight nod, taking in the place once more. Skicru seemed to be very familiar and comfortable here, almost like they belong. She saw some guards from Alpha Squad patrolling the surrounding forest, but even then they looked to be enjoying the evening.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to come tonight?” Clarke asked, finally realizing that Octavia was here, in Polis.

“Yeah well after what happened, Lincoln convinced Bellamy,”

“How the hell did he do that?”

“They threatened each other, then Lincoln promised if anything happened to me tonight Bellamy could kill him on the spot. Seemed to do it,” she shrugged, a faint of a smile gracing her lips as she spoke of Lincoln. Clarke wanted to ask about him, she wanted to understand how they came to be. She wondered if Lincoln could help convince Lexa that war was not the answer, she was about to ask when Octavia cut in.

“You need to loosen up,” she reached over pulling the elastic band holding Clarke’s hair up and back, releasing her messy curls to tumble down her shoulders and back, “and a drink,” she winked handing over her own cup. Clarke stared at it, then took it reluctantly.

“I could use more than a drink, but I can’t, not now, not when I need to find Lexa and talk to her,” she explained, eyes now searching for the Commander.

“She’s probably still in her cabin,”

“Thanks,” she muttered chancing a glance up at her, only to be brought back to the guilt she felt for their exchange that morning. In that moment, she wanted to apologize, wanted to take back what she had said and explain how maybe she didn’t give Octavia much of a reason to trust her anyway but she knew it wasn’t true. As much as she felt poorly for how she reacted, she understood that either way this girl wouldn’t trust her enough to keep a secret, that practically everyone on the Dropship had known about.

They bid goodbye and Clarke made her way through the dark woods, following the trail until it reached the cabin she had visited weeks ago. The path was only lit by a couple of torches, glowing against the night sky. She took a breath and knocked twice, loudly, hearing the shuffle of feet before the door fell wide open.

“Titus, right?” she inquired looking up at the tall bald man. He disregarded her, stepping to one side. It was enough of an invitation to come in, Clarke slipped past him to see the Commander seated at her throne at the end of the room just as she had been the first time Clarke saw her.

She took in the high ceilings again, the unique carvings that extended across the wooden walls creating a form of art she had only dreamed about. The candle light coming off of the twenty candles or so that were scattered across the room, illuminated them and gave off a warm scent. The throne, large and made from tree branches that peaked at the top giving it the illusion that it was tall, was perched on top of a two-step floor where the Commander sat like royalty.

Lexa watched her with careful eyes and Clarke realized she was doing the same. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in and examined the girl in front of her. She didn’t look much older, maybe in her early twenties, she had kohl lining her eyes brightening them, and fierce braids interwoven within her straight brown hair that fell to her waist.

“I had a feeling you’d visit me Clarke Griffin,” she spoke calmly. Clarke refused to believe someone so young, so innocent looking could possess enough power in this world to just sit there and speak as calmly as she did, as if no one could hurt her.

“You did?” Clarke raised an eyebrow. She was aware of the heavy-breathing-Titus glued to her back, watching, in case the interaction took a wrong turn. Lexa sensing this nodded to Titus, waving her hand in dismissal.

“Heda,” he hissed, but Lexa shot him a pierced look and he complied, stepping outside the cabin and shutting the door behind him.

“We are alone. Speak.” She demanded.

“I want—I need,” Clarke emphasized taking a step closer to the throne, “to understand why you believe that war is the answer. It can’t be. Do you know how many innocent people will die? My people, your people, everyone and all the areas in between will vanquish!”

Lexa stayed quiet. Her eyes lingering over Clarke’s face, down her body before pulling them back up to stare at her. The nerves tickled Clarke’s spine, she hid the shiver running through her, hoping it won’t make her seem weak in a moment she desperately needed to look strong.

“Do you know the history of my people, Clarke?”

When Clarke shook her head no, Lexa smiled wickedly before a chilling laugh bubbled, echoing in between the wooden walls surrounding them.

“You come here, almost barging in with the claim of peace when you do not know the history of this world or the people in it,” She was amused and it only angered Clarke. She knew she was being irrational to some degree, and that she was in the dark when it came to the Grounders. But, it was only two weeks ago that she even knew they actually existed.

“What is the history of your people?” she whispered, her blue eyes looking past Lexa.

“Years ago, there was a girl,” Lexa said after a moment, “you remind me of her. She witnessed as a group of large men worked hastily to build a large barrier between her world and theirs, she didn’t understand why. The people on her side had been friends with them, traded with them, welcomed them into their homes. It was when she asked the question to her mother, she realized why.” Lexa’s voice was haunting, still, Clarke refused to meet her gaze.

“The people building the wall were the ones who had attacked her village, weeks ago. They killed her brother, her father, and left her youngest sister injured with no movement from the waist down.”

“You’re the little girl?”

“No, Clarke, I wasn’t but I knew her. I watched as she suffered, rejecting to let anyone in, let anyone help her, but she didn’t end up there without a fight. She reached out to your people, wanted them to see that forgiveness for their attack was possible. She didn’t want a war either. Do you know what happened next?”

Clarke didn’t answer. She stood unmoving, not looking, not fidgeting, just listening as Lexa continued to tell a story she had trouble believing to be true.

“They killed everyone close to her, threaten her life, threatened mine. Then I stood by watching her drift away, watching the innocence in her eyes blacken and turn to ash. Look at me!” Lexa shouted making Clarke jump. Her eyes found the green ones that held so much pain, Clarke flinched not able to look away.

“You want to avenge her? This is all about revenge?” Clarke found her voice and gathered her courage.

“No, this is more than her. It always was. It is about the countless attacks that happened wanting to eliminate my people since before you were born. It is about those attacks repeating themselves if we do not stand and fight back now.”

“You can’t go to war, you’ll lose much more,”

“Yes, but do you know what will happen if I don’t?” Lexa crossed her legs, sitting back in the chair. The pain that flashed in her eyes gone now leaving behind a blank look.

“If you don’t, we have a chance at coexisting in peace. A chance at a negotiation, to ensure that both sides can live without fear. My people, they have technology, the resources that your people could only dream of, with it they will wipe you out,”

“Do you honestly believe that?” Lexa asked, “Do you believe that if I walk over to your Chancellor right now, he would welcome me and welcome the idea of negotiating?”

“We would have to take you, and we would have to explain the situation to him, but we can make him see it our way. I don’t think he wants a war either,” Clarke was desperate now. She wished that Lexa would understand her, understand the fear she felt.

“You are making a child’s argument Clarke,” Lexa started but when Clarke took a step closer wanting to jump in she stood up abruptly, eyes narrow and jaw clenched.

“You are ignorant if you believe for a second that your Chancellor does not want a war. How could he not? He was willing to let people starve, die from illnesses by refusing to aid in giving his citizens the antidotes to save them, let children watch their own parents die in front of them,” Lexa stepped down her throne coming face to face with Clarke.

“You’d be doing the same by letting your people go to war. I saw your men training the other day, there was a young boy who looked to be eight years old,”

“This is how they train to be warriors,”

“No that is how they train to kill, become murderers,”

“They learn to fight to protect themselves,” they were now inches apart, both angry and wide eyed, “I understand that war is not easy, that war requires sacrifice but if I leave my people unprotected, if I choose to stand down then they will die regardless.”

“I just—”

“Enough!” Lexa snapped, “We have existed in silence, minding our own business and living in peace before word of our existence met the ears of your councilmen. They threatened us, they shut us out with their wall and if they could, they would kill us all,” she screeched out blazing with a fiery anger.

“I refuse to believe we survived, you survived, all this time just to slaughter each other,”

“You are blinded by your ambition,” Lexa took a couple steps back, heels meeting the end of the steps to her throne, “War is what this has come to and you can either join us as I told your leader, or you go against us and we see you on the battlefield,”

“Bellamy agreed to this already?”

“No, he has until the end of the week to accept my proposal, but make no mistake Clarke, if he refuses then it means we are at war as well, all ties between Skicru and Trikru are over, I tell you this story Clarke not to expose what a coward your Chancellor is, but to serve as a warning. Do not be like that little girl Clarke. Do not look for a good that does not exist.”

The silence stretched between them. She was so beyond confused, she looked to the ground below her trying to piece together Lexa’s story that was so out of step.

“This will be the last time you come to plead for the war to end,” her voice startled Clarke, she narrowed her eyes as Lexa sat back down on her throne. She called out in her foreign tongue and Titus came rushing in grabbing hold of Clarke and dragging her out of the room.

Her feet struggled to keep up with him as he shoved her through the threshold of the room, down the path and back into the glade. She turned to argue but he was gone, moving swiftly back to his Commander and her savage ways.

Her brain felt numb. The wall was said to have been up a hundred years ago, the minute people came together to form the civilization that they know now. If Lexa knew the young girl who watched the wall be built then either Lexa is a hundred years old, which was unlikely, or the wall wasn’t built that long ago.

She spluttered in disbelief. So much information was being thrown at her all at once and she didn’t know what to trust. Had the leader of Arkadia known about the presence of the Grounders long before her father found evidence? If they did, if they truly attacked them, then her father died for nothing. He was a pawn in a war that began the minute the wall came up. She tried not to dwell on that too much, for all she knew it could be a lie. She can’t cry, not here, not now, not ever.

Clarke didn’t want to admit it but Lexa made a point. Chancellor Jaha wouldn’t welcome any of them quietly nor would he be so quick to agree to a treaty, whether the accusations of his knowledge about the Grounders for years now, was true or not. He was ruthless in ensuring that the rules in Arkadia are followed precisely whether that meant locking up a fourteen-year-old for existing or executing his own friend. It didn’t mean that they couldn’t work together to convince Jaha, enough to at least make him listen. She had information on the council but her connections had died the moment she left. All she had there now was her mother who wouldn’t extend a hand to them no matter what. If she hadn’t fought hard to save her own husband, what makes Clarke think she’d fight hard for a bunch of people she never met who live so differently than she does?

“Think too hard you’ll get a nose bleed,” Murphy grunted from next to her. She ignored him not realizing that he had taken the spot beside her.

“If I don’t think at all, I’ll end up like you,” she bit back fighting the urge to roll her eyes. The minute he spoke she should have went running to find someone she actually trusted but the sad truth was there wasn’t anyone she trusted anymore, and within minutes Lexa would reappear and make the statement that will ruin their chances at being the civilization they worked hard to form.

“Blake was right about you,” he whispered amused, leaning down closer to her ear.

“About?”

“You have the prettiest mouth on you,” his tone dripped with sarcasm but the heat that fled to her cheeks was becoming obvious under the dim fire light. She scowled at him but it only fueled his entertainment of her, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him you think the same about him,”

“I don’t, you can tell him I hate his guts,” she snarled, disgusted by Murphy and his pretentious tone. She walked away from him, moving through the crowd of people that danced and chatted away happily. When she reached the outer edge of the glade, the same spot she was standing in when she and Finn had arrived, she took a good look around.

The atmosphere shifted, the drumming stopped, the chatter, the dancing, everything came to a sudden halt. She flicked her gaze to what caught everyone’s attention and found she couldn’t stand straight. With vomit threatening to spill onto the ground below her, she clenched her fists at her side knowing that this was the moment all hell would break loose. This was what it has come to, Lexa had said.

Clarke knew the answer, but she wanted to try once more. She knew they could solve the problem, maybe if she found Finn, and even Octavia, together the three of them could make a better case, but two things happened that had that thought catch in her throat.

 

One, she knew Lexa wouldn’t budge, no matter how many people tried to convince her.

And two, Bellamy was standing in the middle of the glade, lit up by the flashing fire light, with the entire clan, including Skicru, surrounding him.


	9. Chapter 9

8.

He had everyone’s attention, all eyes on him, including her own sapphire ones. The people from Polis looked confused, the people of Skicru looked even more confused. 

Lexa was supposed to make the announcement, not Bellamy. 

Bellamy, to Clarke’s knowledge hadn’t made a decision whether or not to go to war yet. Clarke saw this as a small sliver of hope, maybe she can convince Bellamy to refuse Lexa’s offer. Without the additional reinforcements and eyes on Arkadia, Lexa would have no choice but to back down. It seemed like a smart plan, and if Clarke wasn’t in some weird fight with Bellamy she would mention it to him, but seeing him in the middle of the orange glowing glade like that, it caused the fear to find comfort in her mind.

“The people of the Ark are enemies to you, I can see that!” he shouted, shifting around slightly to speak to the huge group around him, “They have threatened you before, attacked your homes, built a wall that left you starving and thirsty for fifty years!” a roar of angry comments and slurs came from the people of Polis, who waved their hands up in agreement with him.

“They are not my people! My people are the ones who suffer, and bleed, and die for the injustice they face on a daily basis! We are much stronger than they think, you are not prisoners, we are not prisoners, we are survivors, and fighters!” his voice shook the ground, shook her heart that was already hammering against her ribcage. He was provoking the crowd, hyping them up so when Lexa revealed their fate they would go willingly and quietly. How was that any different than the tactics of the Ark? 

Clarke believed that there was a valid excuse for why Bellamy was speaking to this now rowdy crowd, like he had. The people’s voices overlapped, both in the foreign language of the Grounders and English of the people of Skicru who were also contributing with their own cheers and remarks. She just kept staring at him, hoping that he would somehow see her through this crazy crowd and she could convey to him what a prick he’s being through eye contact, but, he never glanced at her. He merely spun around on the spot watching as the men put their fists in the air, voices ringing, and the woman clutched their hearts, nodding along to his words vigorously.

“Bell-o-me! Bell-o-me!” they began to chant, louder and louder that the leaves on the trees trembled and the fire from the fire pit fluttered in the wind. He kept his face blank, he wasn’t absorbing their praise, or being the smug bastard she knew he could be. His ego persisted as it always has; he didn’t even smile in gratitude at how they hung off of every word he spoke. He simply gave a short nod to the side, where Lexa emerged, Titus and a few Grounder men holding spears and knifes in tow. The crowd grew wilder at the sight of her.

As Lexa took Bellamy’s place, he moved off to the side and into the darkness of the woods. Her eyes lingered after him until she couldn’t make out his silhouette anymore to which then the sound of the Grounder language met her ears. Lexa was addressing the crowd, but Clarke already knew how this would go. They would cheer again, probably louder this time that even the guards patrolling the wall would hear them and try to swallow their fear. Then, war would come. 

So instead, she shuffled through the outer edge of the crowd where it was much easier to get to the woods, and followed the dark haired man that just agreed to death. She could hardly see the ground below her, but she moved forward in the direction she knew he had gone in. When she saw flicker of light and heard voices speaking rapidly and quietly she trailed after them until she was a few steps away. In between branches, fallen leaves, and tall grass covering the entire ground, Raven, Finn, Octavia, and Lincoln gathered around Bellamy, each with a look of bewilderment stamped across their faces.

Clarke moved closer until she was able to huddle behind a tall tree, squatting down low so that the leaves that hung down there, brushed past her shoulders.

“You think I don’t know that?” Bellamy hissed, eyeing Raven who had her hands on her hips waiting for him to explain.

“You obviously don’t if you just agreed to go to war against Jaha and all of Arkadia,” Finn cut in narrowing his eyes at Bellamy. Bellamy dismissed him by not bothering to reply to his question instead turning to face Lincoln who had been staring at the ground in front of him.

“How long before Lexa commands the presence of all twelve clans?” he asks, flicking his gaze between his sister and the guy too close to her personal space.

“A matter of days,” Lincoln’s voice was raspy, like he couldn’t believe this himself.

“How many?” Bellamy pressed on, anger seeping through each word.

“I’m not sure, but what you’ve just done, encouraging her and everyone else, it won’t be more than a week before the leaders of each clan make their way to Polis to work on battle plans,” he bit back, just as harsh, fed up with the night.

“Then we have a week to lower the defences from inside Arkadia,”

“We have at least fifty people inside that could help us figure out Jaha’s next move, when he wants to attack, what weapons he’s using, his game plan,” Raven supplied, shrugging off her backpack to pull out one of her notebooks. She stepped closer to Bellamy, shoulder to shoulder, they peered down at her notebook, she pointed to something flipping through a couple of pages to which he nodded approvingly. 

“Good, get half of engineering to work on that while the other half works on creating bombs and bullets. We need grenades, missiles, ammo for the rifles; pull Jasper from working with Wick on surveillance and get him to help you,” Bellamy demanded, moving to walk away when Finn grabbed his arm tugging him back. Only it didn’t really work because Bellamy froze in place glaring down at the hand wrapped around his forearm. Finn let him go but didn’t step back.

“No matter what you do, how hard you prepare, we will lose this fight. We have eighty-four people on the Dropship, seventy of those are old enough for war, forty of them are actual fighters. There are over two thousand people in Arkadia, Bellamy. Jaha will call for conscription and gather all two thousand to fight if he has to, even the ones who work for us!”

A wave of pride went through Clarke, finally someone was talking reason into him. She almost made herself known to them at that moment, wanting to agree to everything Finn said and more. She knew though, if she did come out of her not so great hiding spot now, their conversation would cease and she would leave even more confused than before.

“If we don’t fight, we die anyways. It’s a coward move to sit around, waiting for peace,”

“Dying in a fight you can’t win, isn’t going to spark change or give you freedom,” Finn shot back, practically pleading. But the freckled leader didn’t care at all, he moved aside, directing his attention towards his younger sister, who looked to be just as torn and just as lost as the rest of them.

“C’mon O, we need to gather everyone and head back,”

“I’m not leaving,” she said stubbornly. Strands of hair now falling down to frame her face. Everyone stood frozen, not daring to look away from the two siblings having a staring contest. It was always in awe that Clarke watched their interactions. The connection they shared proved to be precious, having someone there in all times of need, linked to you by blood, who wasn’t a parent but a sibling was, beyond incredible, in her opinion anyway. Although the Blake siblings are showing a less glamorized side of their bond.

“You have no idea what you agreed to, Bell. So many people are going to die—”

“Let’s go, O!” he called out again, agitation growing on his face. The young girl was taken back, clearly not expecting her older brother to cut her off like that. Bellamy was pissed, it was easy enough to see that no matter what the people in front of him say, he wasn’t going back on his word.

“So what? We take the fight to Arkadia, break down the wall, get welcomed by the army with better weapons, better equipment, stronger minds…then what?” Finn questioned, invading Bellamy’s space. Bellamy stood unfazed, peering down his nose at Finn who possessed the same hostile attitude. Raven shook her head at them, trying and failing to conceal her cynical smile. Clarke had witnessed Raven smile genuinely, through pain, and even with a sarcastic glint in her eye, but the way her lips curved at that moment terrified her. Raven felt drained listening to their stubbornness. Clarke was starting to feel the same way, understanding that this will only end one way.

“You two are standing here, arguing and fighting each other on this, when the real enemy is behind that wall,” she claimed, stepping in between them now, “Finn,” she turned her back to Bellamy, “I know you have family there, I’m sorry about what you had to give up. I know you’re worried about them, but if we don’t stop Jaha, there will be other kids, innocent kids, that will end up like us.” She said softly. 

Finn’s eyes glistened, the way he looked at her showed open concern and a kind of love there Clarke had never seen before. Finn looked over Raven’s shoulder at the irritated man he was arguing with only to find that he had backed down as well, dark eyes not as dangerous as they had been.

“It’s not about that,” the softness of Finn’s voice brought surprise to Raven’s expression. She watched him carefully, almost like she was wondering if he was the same guy she once knew. Clarke wondered the same thing, observing their interaction now.

“Then what is it about?”

“We have survived all of this, everything that has happened to this world, just to give it up and throw it all away because we got dealt a shitty hand?”

“Collins,” Bellamy rumbled from behind Raven, “You said there were eighty-four people on the Dropship. We rescued those eighty-four people who got dealt a shitty hand, but there are many more that suffer in silence. You think surviving in a corrupt system is better than dying, fighting, for the right thing?”

“Is it the right thing though? In every way you look at it, Bellamy, do you honestly see it as the right thing to do?”

“I do,”

His words were final.

The four pairs of eyes looked up at him, some in shock, some in understanding. Lincoln leaned back, hand reaching over his head to pull what looked like a sword from the sling thrown over his shoulder. Octavia watched his movements as he turned away from them, going further into the woods. She glanced at her brother one last time before sighing in disbelief and following the man she loved.

“Reyes, find Miller and round up everyone. We leave in ten minutes.” Raven stuffed the notebook back into her bag. She stood still, studying both of the guys who were aggressively studying each other. When Bellamy shouted “Now!”, she grunted in disapproval, shaking her head for what was the hundredth time that night and walked away, not before ramming her shoulder against Bellamy’s in defiance. 

“You’re making a mistake,” Finn muttered. He remained still, eyes gloomy and narrow but after a moment it was like he gave up. He huffed out, dropping his protective stance and almost, almost looked like he bowed his head, brown hair covering his forehead. 

Dim pain started shooting up Clarke’s legs, moving to her thighs as she was still in her crouched down position. The bark of the tree suddenly feeling rough under her palm, she hesitated in moving from her hiding spot. She watched as Finn left, leaving only Bellamy behind, who ran a hand through his black hair in exhaustion. 

The night has taken a turn for the worst. Whatever hope she had in avoiding a war was stopped dead in its tracks, first by Lexa who made Clarke look and feel like an idiot, then by Bellamy who basically congratulated Lexa at such a brave move, then by Finn, Octavia, and even Lincoln, who walked away in defeat. They had argued, made fair points, and tried to convince Bellamy to understand what he was agreeing to but he was stubbornly stuck in his way. 

The thought as to why he wouldn’t budge occurred to Clarke, but she didn’t have time to dig deeper and try to comprehend that chip on his shoulder. She had people to try and save.

His face had a strange expression etched across it. From where she ducked, she could see his resilient arms covered in goosebumps as the cool wind brushed past them. He was looking up at the sky, she could’ve sworn his eyes sparkled like the stars that glared down at him. The strong jaw he always clenched was now firm and tight, as if he wanted to scream but stopped himself.

“How long are you going to stay there for?” 

She froze. Her heart hammered louder in her chest, the sound ringing in her ear. She swore under her breath and made to step around the tree trunk but her legs were shaking. She sucked in a deep breath, borrowing all the courage she had left and came into his view. However, he was still looking up at the night, a knowing look now on his face and a brief, tiniest allusion of a smirk threatening his lips.

“How did you know?”

“You’re about as subtle as Spacewalker is with his peace and love act,” 

She walked closer to him, until they had enough safe distance between them where she wouldn’t be tempted to kick him in the shin if he pissed her off again. It was too quiet, the wind had stopped, the trees stood tall and tranquil, she was fidgety though, wanting to speak her mind but knowing it won’t do much good. And to her knowledge, they were still not on talking terms because of the words he threw at her last night.

“Now you stay quiet?” he teased, but his tone wasn’t as teasing as it should’ve been. He was sincerely wondering why she didn’t attack first chance she had.

“Would it matter what I have to say?” she questioned back, no teasing in her tone whatsoever. His eyes snapped to hers, locking her in place. A breath got caught in her windpipe. 

“Never stopped you before,” he gave her a once over, brown orbs moving to her golden hair, “you’re wearing it down,” he mused. 

“You said surviving in a corrupted system is worse than dying trying to fight for good, but if you die, doesn’t the corrupt system say intact?” she ignored his remark and the feeling that crawled up her skin, instead getting to the point.

“You’d be making a statement. By willing to fight and die, you’re proving that the cause is worth it,”

“Is it though?” He folded his arms across his chest, she realized it was probably his favourite form of defence, especially when it came to arguing with people. When he didn’t reply, she continued, “I know you think that war is going to get your side of this heard, but they haven’t attacked yet. Shit, I’m pretty sure they’re trying to do damage control and keep people under the illusion that there is not a single soul behind these walls.”

“I’m not arguing with you today, Princess,” he shifted to look back up at the sky, but Clarke knew it was now or never.

“You are unprovoked. There are better ways at handling this. If we go to them, get your inside people to force them to listen, we can reach some kind of deal. One where no one has to die,” he kept quiet, lips pressed in a tight line, jaw still clenched, “Seriously Bellamy, why can’t you just consider it for a second,”

“You think I haven’t? You think I want to send off a bunch of seventeen year olds to fight alongside a group of reckless warriors?” a shudder ran through her at the ruggedness of his voice. 

Her eyes widened a fraction, this was the first time she has ever witnessed him looking emotionally torn. She was speechless, not able to believe that this was the same guy who just minutes ago had an attractive girl wrapped around him and then went on to give such a motivational speech.

“Lexa said that the wall wasn’t built a hundred years ago, you said it was built fifty…” she trailed off biting her bottom lip, “Is it true?” she braved, hoping the answer wouldn’t feel like an arrow through her heart.

He peeked over at her from behind his long dark eyelashes that fluttered against his skin, brushing down on a few freckles, before going tense again. She nervously reached for her father’s watch wrapped around her wrist playing with the cool glass covering. He followed her movements, then said, so quietly she could barely hear him, “Yes,”

Her entire world shifted. There were many moments in her life where she felt that she was falling, so far down, way past rock bottom. One of those moments left her broken. She carried it around like a hidden scar, nothing could beat it, but this moment was by far a close second. All her theories, her father’s death, the truth about Arkadia, hit her with a force that had her staggering back struggling to maintain her balance.

Her lungs felt like they were closing up, eyes suddenly heavy, but she couldn’t. No she couldn’t fall, not right here, not in front of him.

“So when I pointed out that the Grounders seemed so well trained, like they’ve been preparing for war all their lives, and you gave me some bullshit about people having speculation? You knew?”

“It wasn’t bullshit. Like the Arkadians who are so fucking ignorant, the Grounders kept their people in the dark too. They trained them with the thought that they may need to defend themselves one day,”

Red. It was all she saw, and if she didn’t find a way to calm herself, then shit would really go down. She was not on the best terms with him and calling him out on his vague answers, or really bad attitude wouldn’t help her case at all. She had to gulp down the rage, the fury that was eating at her skin and ask the question she was dreading to ask.

“That’s it? We’re going to war?” she concluded with the feeling of a weight dropping on her shoulders, crushing her soul.

“There is no other way,” he murmured, and it fell silent once again, her eyes on him and his anywhere else. 

Admitting defeat isn’t easy for her, never was, and bringing herself to do it now only brings back the memories she’s fought long and hard to forget. Everywhere she turned it was a dead end, whatever power she thought she could wield, she could use to inspire him, vanished. 

She titled her body so she wasn’t facing him anymore and looked up at the sky, enticed by the beauty of the glimmering lights above. Of all the things, standing right there next to him, under the open sky, she felt herself drift. There really was no use anymore, was there? 

“I wish a shooting star would fly by so I can wish away this war,” she mumbled in dry humour. She didn’t have to turn to see that the hard look was still in place next to her, “What would you wish for?” she breathed out.

He gave her an unimpressed side eye glance, arms falling to his side. She watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. 

Never mind, she thought, sighing, when he didn’t answer her.

“If a shooting star flew by or if we were randomly wishing for things to happen?”

“Either,”

He didn’t speak for a while, not when the wind picked up again, or when fatigue took over Clarke’s body at the realization that this was by far the longest night of her life. When he finally did, he spoke low and solemn, words only meeting her ears, “I don’t know,” 

When Clarke first met Bellamy she wasn’t as aware of his appeal and his stance until he spoke so proudly and so courageously to the large clan who inhaled his every word. He always seemed so sure of himself, strong, harsh, cruel when he needed to be and only ever showed a trace of kindness towards his sister, yet looking at him now, Clarke thought she had figured it out. 

Reality was they were all human, all feeling and breathing and bleeding the same. His rebellious, brave act was just that, an act. It made her wonder what else she neglected to notice about him. He obviously had a past, but how much of it was he willing to share, with her of all people? And how much of it was she willing to hear without ruining her chances of achieving in her so-called mission? 

“You have a week,” he pulled her out of her trance. She gave him a confused slant of the head, “If you can find a way to pardon everyone on the Dropship, protect the Grounders, and get Jaha to magically back down as Chancellor letting the people have a re-vote, not only for a new Chancellor but for all laws and policies to go through reassessment, then I will back down from this war and convince Lexa to back down as well,”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed in astonishment, he couldn’t be fucking serious, “How the hell am I supposed to get that done in a week?”

“That’s what your worried about?” he asked with a small, amused smile.

“You’re making fun of me,” she deadpanned, not impressed with his mood shift. Furrowing her brows, she felt a pang of hurt rush through her. His aloofness was haunting, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he had actual hope that she would find a way to spare them all.

When he didn’t confirm or deny her previous statement, only continued to switch his gaze from the sky to the top of her head, she stepped closer, leaving an inch of space between their arms.

“You all but threw me out of the Dropship last night, blamed me for the whole…shit show in the woods by the lake, you expect me to believe you now?” she raised both eyebrows, then a thought hit her, “You didn’t even apologize,”

“If you’re looking for an apology, don’t hold your breath,” she scoffed expecting that but his next sentence, she wasn’t expecting at all, “Whether I give you a time frame or permission, you’d go ahead and do what you want anyway, and you’ll eventually succeed.”

“You believe that?” the question leaving her lips without her permission. She was curious now as to what his response will be. The way he raised an eyebrow, smirk returning, it dawned on her that this was the chance she was looking for. If she could succeed in this, then they would avoid a terrible war. Whether he believed it or not, she would fight. She would prove him wrong.

“You don’t?” he challenged catching her by surprise. She opened her mouth but her voice left her hanging. 

Thankfully, she didn’t have to answer him because Miller, her saving grace, came from behind a scatter of trees calling out to them. As he drew nearer, she lifted her stare from his approaching figure to the one standing next to her. 

Bellamy was already staring at her.

He always stared at her intently, and she always felt like her body was on fire when he did. 

She prayed the heat wouldn’t find its way to her pale cheeks, and that the night was a dark enough blanket to cover them if they did glow red. Then she remembered earlier in the night where he laughed wrapping his arm around a small frame, and late last night when he yelled at her, and even all those nights ago when she walked away from him after their day trip, “Better go say goodbye to your friend,” she said, with that she walked away, passing Miller who gave her a curt nod.

 

Coming back into the glade, Clarke was welcomed by the warmness of the fire but that was the only thing inviting. Lexa was nowhere to be seen nor were her body guards. In her place was a large group of Grounder men speaking hurriedly in their language, rage laced in their tone. It’s just the beginning she thought, it’ll only accelerate from here and maybe two of those men will find their way back home, if they’re lucky.

She caught sight of the cadets from Alpha Squad making their way out of glade and into the woods leading to the market place. Between them she saw Harper, she was guiding some of them in the opposite direction, probably gathering up the rest of Skicru. It was her first time witnessing Harper as a guard, usually the hazel-eyed girl was cooped up in medical struggling to breathe through her nose when someone with a nasty gash walked in. Those eyes had a glint in them now, she flowed through the grounds like she knew the place by heart. She looked like she belonged, amongst the rest of the cadets. Clarke wished she knew the feeling. 

Many wishes to be made and yet, nothing to show for them. She sighed, ducking her head down letting her long bangs frame her face, keeping everyone out of view. 

If she saw the panic in some of their eyes, or the way they clutched on to their children seeking shelter and safety, or even the aggressive look in the Grounder men’s eyes, they would haunt her dreams and make proving Bellamy Blake wrong that much harder.   
He was taking a chance on her, granted it was a fool’s bargain, she had no choice but to take it. The question as to why he was willing to give her any acknowledgement, or a shot at preventing the war from coming was beyond her. He claimed that she would try either way which he wasn’t wrong about, but him knowing that, knowing her, made the feeling in the pit of her stomach come alive again. 

She has to make some progress in trying to stabilize the relationship between the council members and the members of Skicru, if she can get that wall down, maybe she can get the bigger, much sturdier wall down. 

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the young boy she met in the medical cabin, who she gave her flashlight to. He recognized her immediately sending her a shy smile waving the bulky flashlight in his small hands. She bit back the image of the boy lying in a pool of his own blood, an image of Atom worked its way into her head. She shut her eyes tight, forcing the thoughts back, when she opened them again the boy was staring at her in confusion. She sucked air through her teeth, smiling brightly, or trying to at least, sending a small wave of her own. 

“Clarke?” it was Harper, walking closer to her with an edge of concern, “You ok?”

“Fine,” Harper accepted the response although she knew it was a lie and pointed to the other side of the glade where Finn, a girl named Monroe who was on the Beta Squad and a boy named Sterling, also on Beta Squad, stood exchanging words faintly. 

“We’re leaving now. Do you have everything?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” Clarke forced a smile, and walked ahead leaving the girl behind her, who still held an edge of concern and a look that told Clarke she was so far from good.


	10. Chapter 10

9.

The yellow sun was blazing against the skin exposed on her back, causing a sheen path of sweat to travel down her spine behind the dark tank-top she had on. Her hair was up in a bun and she was trying to catch her breath after a hectic wave of yells and cries that came at her from all directions.

Clarke escaped the torturous pull from almost every person on the Dropship. She was reeled to one side by Monty and Bryan who desperately needed her help in uncovering some more codes, prying out of her whatever knowledge remained in her head regarding her father’s job and how he went about it. If it wasn’t those two, then it was Miller who clung to her side, questioning her over and over about the council back in Arkadia. What actions do they take if this happens, what about if that happens, who do they talk to about this and okay, well, what about that? It drove her fucking insane, although she knew they needed this information, badly, she still had her own problems to worry about. Like how she was going to accomplish the unreasonable task at hand, which she sadly had to admit, was a lot harder than she expected it to be.

Bellamy Blake had basically given her a ‘chance’ to avoid the terrible war that was coming, but she knew that his attempt was only to humour her. He probably laughed himself to sleep every night for the past five days knowing that she was going out of her mind trying to prove him wrong. 

Well, that’s if he laughed anyway, he was stone cold, always. 

She manages to catch a tiny glimpse of something, something rare, but it disappears as if it was never there. Whatever heart he had, she never saw. This was enough motivation to get her to work harder in determining a solution. 

Truth of the matter is that war is drawing nearer and while she hopelessly believes that indulging in this battle is only going to make things worse, a part of her, deep down, fears that their problems won’t be solved as easily if there wasn’t a fight. 

It had been an uneventful five days to Clarke’s dismay. In the midst of all this pulling back and forth, she still had her medic duties that were a constant battle of treating the wounded and urging people to take extra preventative measures to avoid flu season. She was brought back to couple of minutes ago, after patching up another patient, her eyes darted to Harper who was begrudgingly stifling through one of the drawers in search of some bandages. Clarke remembered the expression on her face in the glade four nights back, when she looked alive and thriving amongst the other cadets.

“Hey Harp,” she took to calling her by the nickname that Monty gave her, or called her by anyway, biting her lip to keep from smiling at the soft blush that covered the girl’s cheeks, “You can go ahead to the third floor, I’m sure Alpha Squad needs you more for training. I could handle it here,” 

Harper’s eyes lit up slightly, but then she shook her head, “No, it’s okay. We have a few more patients left anyway,” she gestured to the three poorly looking individuals sat against the wall of the med room. 

“I got this,” Clarke said pointedly, ushering Harper out of the room, shushing her when she began to protest, “Seriously, go train,” she didn’t add the ‘we might need it’ part of the sentence, refusing to give in to her haunting fears. When Harper finally complied, Clarke rushed through the remaining patients before shutting the door firmly behind her and hurrying out into the warm air outside.

It had been quite hot the past couple of days in comparison to a few weeks back when the cool breeze lurched around her, wrapping her up from the inside and out. With the residue from the nuclear war, global warming was as real as any of them could imagine, and the consequences kept them at a limbo between hot and cold at odd times of the year. 

Her skin was drinking in the light of the sun, knowing she would probably burn with her pale skin but not caring enough to step under the shade. The sun barely came out to begin with, and whenever it did she was always cramped up inside whether it be at the hospital finishing up her apprenticeship under her mother’s watchful eye, or in her room, watching from the window with an empty page of her sketch book staring up at her desperate to draw those rays but not having enough strength to. 

How can she enjoy any form of beauty of a world so intent on destroying itself?

Shoving her hands in her pant pocket, she retrieved a folded piece of paper she found perched on a book she was reading before bed, that laid on top of the sheets, early that morning. She was supposed to meet Raven in engineering as soon as she was on her lunch break but the smog that covered her space was too thick. She needed some time, time she didn’t really have but took anyway. A soft intake of air filtered through her and she was moving back into the building before she knew it.

 

“Raven, I have like thirty minutes, what is it?” she had asked as soon as she walked into the bright room. Wick greeted her with a shit-eating grin and a small wave, she smiled back raising an eyebrow.

“She’s not here, went to see Octavia,” he supplied, half sitting on the white crisp table. 

“How’s it coming along?” she gave the room a once over, digits and letters intermingled into one, she couldn’t decipher it if she spent all day trying.

“It’s coming. So far we’ve managed to get onto their server undetected. Whatever they broadcast we can see, whatever messages get transferred between the council members we can see and hear it first before the message even gets delivered,” he pointed at the screen ahead of them, “What we’re still working on is their military unit. It’s shut down currently, which is a bit odd but it’s network isn’t within…” he trailed off glancing at Clarke. She held his gaze, wondering why he stopped talking.

“Your dad created the code,” he murmured, “he’s the coolest guy ever. Well, for engineers anyway,” he smiled again, big and broad. At the mention of her father she faltered a bit but tried to conceal it. She forced a small smile of her own, but the look in his eye told her that he knew. He knew how difficult it was to hear about him and to have to lie through your teeth about it.

“Uh, Raven told me engineers didn’t really look up to anyone, that uhm, you were all arrogant bastards,” she joked drifting away from the past. Wick laughed loudly, Clarke forgot how contagious it can be. As she stared at him now she realized how perfectly he would contrast the brooding Latina who held her head higher than anyone Clarke’s ever known.

“That’s what you get for going to a mechanic to get your information, always twisting the truth,” 

She smirked at him, nodding along. However, the conversation ended when time began ticking. She didn’t have much time left and if Raven wanted her, she would have to hurry up. After another ten minutes, she gave up waiting.

“I think I’m going to try and find her,” Clarke told him backing out of the room. He called a goodbye after her.

She trudged up the stairs to the third floor managing to find her way through until she was a few steps away from Octavia’s room, where she could hear the voices of both girls. They sounded like they were arguing, but their words were overlapping that she couldn’t make out about what exactly. 

She knocked once, then twice, nothing happened. The voices grew louder if anything. She knocked a third time, practically banging the door, when it whooshed open revealing Octavia with wide eyes and a snarl.

Clarke and Octavia were still in that weird awkward space after their argument in the med room. In the days after Grationem Dan, she hadn’t run into her. The last time she saw her was when Octavia followed Lincoln into the woods. She didn’t see her in the cafeteria last night, the one time she managed to go, where she sat with Finn, Jasper, and Monty nor in the med room or between floors.

“Hey, sorry uh, Raven wanted to talk to me,” her tone peaked high in question at the end of her sentence, although she wasn’t really asking anything. She looked over Octavia’s shoulder at Raven who sat at the edge of the bed. 

Octavia studied Clarke for a few seconds, debating whether or not she was trustworthy enough to let in on all her secrets. When she pushed the door wider, moving to the side, she gestured Clarke in and shut the door firmly behind her. 

“What’s going on?” Clarke said, stepping closer into the room. It looked like it had the last time she was there. The books overflowing on the shelf, clothes draped across various furniture and the floor. She chanced another glance over at Raven who sat looking straight ahead in silence. 

“Nothing, we were just,” Octavia inhaled and exhaled deeply through her nose, “I have a bad feeling about this,” she concluded. Clarke assumed she was talking about the undeniable tension that swept over Arkadia, the Dropship, and the small world beyond the wall. 

“Yeah me too,” Clarke agreed, “War can do a lot but it’s more damage than anything else,”

“No it’s not just that, it’s…we haven’t heard anything from the Grounders yet. The leaders of the clans haven’t arrived but Lincoln said they should be there by now, and Arkadia has been quiet too. I feel like something’s happening, as we speak, and no one is willing to do anything about it!” Octavia exclaimed, huffing as she sat down on her bed.

“Something like what?”

“She thinks they’re planning an attack,” Raven spoke with an edge, rolling her eyes, she adjusted her position so she was facing the other two girls now.

“Who? Arkadia? Yeah, maybe, I mean we don’t know anything for sure right now but,”

“No, not Arkadia,” Raven added. They both looked over at Octavia who was playing with a few loose strands of her black jeans.

She looked up at them, her fingers still playing with the material. Her emerald eyes glistening, “The Grounders,”

With knitted brows, Clarke looked across, gaze switching between them, “I thought your brother agreed with Lexa to go to war. Why would they plan an attack against us?”

“Even still, she knows my brother hates her,” Octavia mumbled, wheels turning in her head. Clarke was tattered, almost gasping for a solid reason or evidence as to why Octavia’s accusation could be the truth. Lexa did seem ruthless in the small moments of interactions between them, but she was just one person. One person who had power, enough of it to not care who she screwed over in the process. As Clarke realized this, she worried her lip, hoping Octavia’s theory was dead wrong.

“I thought,” Clarke cut herself off leering over at Raven who smirked proudly. She didn’t even try to hide her smugness. Bellamy hated Lexa? 

“Hate is a strong word,” Raven mused, clearly more than amused. Clarke was taken back to after her first trip to Polis, when she questioned Raven about Bellamy and Lexa’s relationship only to have a nonchalant vague answer. She didn’t take too kindly to being misled like that which she made evident in the way she was sending glares to Raven who, facing Octavia, was smiling like she was Chancellor.

“Doesn’t matter,” Octavia rolled her eyes, now pulling at the threads, “They don’t really get along that well. It took both of them a while to tolerate let alone trust each other,”

“Why?”

“They saw things differently,”

Clarke scoffed, “Somehow I find that hard to believe,”

“You don’t know what happened here Clarke. You just got here but all of this, it was going on way before you showed up, way before I showed up,” 

Clarke kept her teeth pressed into her bottom lip to keep from saying that it was their fault for not letting her in on “all that has happened”. It reminded her that she still hasn’t properly talked to Octavia, not the way she should have anyway. Raven pushed back on the plush bed so that she was sitting upright, legs in front of her with her back to the wall.

“About that day at the farmhouse,” she whispered her words at Octavia who mirrored Raven’s comfortable position. 

“Don’t Clarke. It’s all on me,” Octavia confirmed tucking her toes under the comforter that was at the edge of her bed.

Clarke grimaced, taking a small step forward but the next words Octavia spoke made her stop dead in her tracks.

“You were right,” she sighed looking worn.

“About what?”

“It fucking hurts when people don’t trust you as much as you think they do,” Clarke had a feeling she was referring to something, someone, else besides herself. She felt sorry for the sixteen-year-old who may have faced those years of life much more dreadfully and unfairly than anybody else had.

“I’m sorry,” Octavia looked surprised that Clarke was apologizing, although a grateful smile graced her lips.

“Me too,” 

Clarke hopped up on the bed, in between the two girls who were just as broken as she was, and stretched her legs too.

“Didn’t you need something from me?” Clarke turned her head to Raven, who remembered with a nod.

“It can wait,”

“Are you sure?” Clarke pressed on, speaking softly.

Raven’s pony-tail bounced as she jerked her head back, “I’m sure. You can just come in tomorrow, I’ll tell Wick what program needs to be updated with the new codes we discovered, then you can see if anything looks familiar. We need to get into that military unit so we can see what Jaha is planning” 

“Speaking of Wick,” Octavia chipped in with a tiny smirk of her own. Raven scrunched her face in disgust but Clarke wasn’t buying it, she didn’t say as much though.

“No, we are not speaking of Wick,” she groaned, pressing her palms down on her left thigh. She dragged her hand down, slightly massaging her leg. Clarke followed her movements with her eyes. 

In a flash the image of Raven covered in blood being carried in by Sinclair came to her. It was a few weeks after her father passed. She walked into the hospital expecting to have the day be as long as it had been the past couple times she’d managed to come in. Her mother tried to convince her to stay home, that she needed the time to recover, but lacked the mere aspect of child raising, which is giving a fuck. She hadn’t paid attention to see that Clarke was coping, just differently. If only she knew, Clarke thought every time her mother looked away.

It was twenty minutes before their joined shift was over, when the unconscious Raven was brought in. Sinclair said he found her outside Mecha Station, but while they were getting her ready for surgery, they couldn’t locate her microchip. Clarke knew instantly she was Skicru, and so did her mother. They treated her nonetheless.

“Raven, because you are not in the system anymore, I can’t get the anesthetic out,” Abby explained after a groggy Raven regained some consciousness.

The drugs that were distributed had a barcode alongside the locked shelves. In order to access them, patients would have to hover their chipped wrist over the barcode, and only then are they released. If Abby or Clarke were to use their own chips, Jaha would have known and especially with their relationship with him, he would have been concerned. There was no way to get them out, even Sinclair who sat in the waiting room biting his nails in anticipation, killing himself with worry, couldn’t help.

“I need my leg,” Raven pleaded, tears slipping down her cheeks. Abby looked at her for a long while, the bullet was lodged in her spine, causing paralysis in her left leg. The open wound was on her side meaning the bullet had to have travelled through to her back where it hit a nerve. Knowing that it takes a while for this to happen, Clarke wondered just how long Raven was injured before Sinclair brought her in.

“Hold her down, Clarke,” her mother’s voice was clipped, hard and tough with determination. Clarke stood still for a moment, taking in the stern line of her mother’s lips and the concentration in the lines between her brows. She had never seen her so ready, so prepared, but she was after all working on saving a life, and the admiration that Clarke found herself having towards this woman who raised her was enough to remind her of what humanity can be again.

She held Raven down by her shoulder blades, she held her down when her mother pushed the scalpel onto the bruised purple skin, she held her down when she pierced their ears with her screams, bouncing off the walls, haunting them. She held her down when she cried harder, when she frantically begged the pain to end, when she finally passed out.

The surgery proceeded with Abby trying to be efficient and quick. They didn’t know who may have heard Raven’s loud cries, and they didn’t want to risk the chance of finding out. Clarke stayed with Raven until she woke up three hours later. They didn’t speak, just exchanged solemn glances, understanding that what happened here would never be spoken of. Finally, Sinclair carried her back to wherever she came from.

“Who shot you?” Clarke asked her now, staring ahead. It was a question that kept her up sometimes. She had believed it was someone from Arkadia, since Raven was from the rebel group, but now knowing the Grounders had a connection to them, she wasn’t sure anymore.

“Murphy,” Raven sneered the name out. Clarke’s mouth fell open, she peered over at Raven first to see her expression blank, then at Octavia who looked lost in her own thoughts, absentmindedly stroking the long scar on the inside of her wrist.

“How the fuck?” Clarke didn’t really know what she was saying. Still absorbed with the fact that the guy who caused Raven all that pain was somewhere in the building. The same guy who tackled her a few nights ago, an event she mentioned to no one. Judging by his remaining presence amid Skicru, Clarke figured that he had some veto for behaving the way he did. They were all indifferent about her as it is so to point a finger at one of their own, no matter how psychotic he was, wouldn’t help her progression at all. Besides Finn was there, and if he hadn’t been she surely would have taken care of herself.

“Long story, but yeah, he shot me,” Octavia sniggered next to her, shaking her head at Raven.

“Oh why don’t you play it down Reyes. No big deal, not like you almost died on us,”

“I didn’t,” Raven seethed, “It was a giant mess, it happened all of a sudden. Before I knew it I was in Bellamy’s arms being rushed into Arkadia, then in Sinclair’s, then on your mom’s operating table,” 

“And he’s still here?” Bewilderment graced Clarke’s face, even if she hadn’t been there, trembling at the sound of Raven’s wails in that corner room of the hospital, she still wouldn’t believe that after committing such an act, Murphy was allowed to roam freely.

“He faced his punishment,” Raven spoke but didn’t continue further. Clarke turned and tried Octavia, giving her what she felt was a persuasive look to fill her in.

“We sent him behind the wall, to the Grounders. They took him in, Bellamy told them to keep him there for a few months. He thought that they would lock him up, maybe feed him less, make him their prisoner,” she enlightened Clarke, “But they had different ideas. They tortured and beat him up, he was dripping with blood and infections when Bellamy saw him again. They tried to hang him but we found him just in time,”

“How?”

“Emori. She was the one that was in charge of healing him when he had really bad wounds. She, somehow, managed to get past Nyko and to Bellamy,” 

Clarke remembered the black-haired girl, with a shiny tan that hugged Murphy when they emerged from the tunnel on Grationem Dan. Raven reading her expression gave a dry chuckle, shifting down on the bed so that her head met the pillow.

“That’s right, Murphy shoots me and he gets a new girlfriend while I lose some sensation in my left leg that causes pain anytime I walk for longer than ten minutes,”

“Do you want a new girlfriend?” Octavia asked wiggling her brow in mock seduction.

“Please, Blake you couldn’t handle this,” Raven winked before closing her eyes, getting comfortable against the grey pillow, “It is tempting though, I know you Blakes are amazing in that department,”

“Ew,” Octavia scrunched her nose in distaste while Clarke choked on air. She looked down at Raven who had an amused grin stretching from ear to ear.

“You and Bellamy?” Clarke didn’t expect this. Yes, Raven was an attractive girl, and the strength she carried with her makes her that much more attractive but she never would have imagined that her and Bellamy would be together…in that way.

She was just surprised, that’s all. So many shocking revelations were coming to the surface today. Raven could’ve admitted to sleeping with anybody else, Jasper, Monty even Wick, and she still would have found it surprising.

“I don’t want to hear about this shit,” Octavia complained.

“Relax Clarke, it was one time, a long time ago. Didn’t mean anything to either of us,” she was silent for a moment, contemplating something before speaking again, “It was more us using each other I guess. He needed release from all the pent up anger he had at the world, and I needed to forget a few things,” at the regretful tone of Raven’s voice, Clarke felt sorry for them, maybe more Raven than Bellamy. She knew, first hand, that the desire to feel something, anything, outweighed any logic the brain possessed, “so you can stop your heart palpitation,” Raven finished off, the never ending smirk still on her lips.

“What? No,” At the mention of her and the dark-haired rebel leader, with eyes that bore into her every time she looked his way, caused a flutter to vibrate through her body. She slipped down the bed until her head was next to Raven, half on her pillow, half on the one under Octavia.

“It’s not like that,” Clarke began but when Octavia’s head was right next to hers, the green eyes gleaming at her cunningly, she kept her mouth shut. If she denied it they’d think she was hiding something, and if she tried to side-step it they’d think she has something to side-step, which she doesn’t. 

It wasn’t like that at all. 

If anything he confused the hell out of her. One moment she thinks she’s coming through to him, that he might actually believe her, or even sees things her way. The next moment he’s his dark and less than charming self who is dismissive and on guard around anyone who isn’t his little sister.

“What, so I get teased about Wick, made fun of because I’m crippled, and then questioned about Bellamy, but then I can’t say anything about you guys?” Raven whined in a voice that may have been too loud for the quiet space they’ve created.

“No one teased you about being crippled,” Octavia ridiculed as she reached over Clarke to smack Raven playfully, “but I am interested to know about you Clarke,” 

“Know what?”

“For starters, why did you really come here?”

She froze for a second, the ceiling still in her view, she shrugged her shoulders, “You already know, I’m here to help,” Clarke felt knowing eyes burn into the sides of her face, but she kept her façade up. When they didn’t budge, she pushed her palms further into the mattress.

“I- I just didn’t think it was living, what they were forcing us to do. It wasn’t life, it was like we should have been thankful to them, for killing our families, and chipping us, and letting us breathe free air that we are entitled to,” disdain all over her face she shrugged again, “It’s bullshit,”

“Fucking bullshit,” Raven agreed, lifting her hand up to the side, palm facing Clarke, who smirked lightly giving her a high-five. 

Octavia crackled, black hair darker against the grey pillows, “Complete bullshit, but that can’t be the only reason,” Clarke held her breath, wanting the conversation to diffuse into the air.

“It is,” she panned, but this time their glares weren’t scorning, they accepted it drifting their attention to something else. 

Her mind brought her to the cold air that wrapped around her that night when she stood outside the Dropship debating whether to enter or not. She recalled how worried she was, how the nerves controlled her, convinced her that she couldn’t pull this off. This “mission” she kept referring to was going to be her undoing, but she told the voice to fuck off, and took those dreadful steps forward. 

Moments after her father passed away, when she still held him tightly in her arms sobbing loudly, with thick tears flowing down her cheeks, she made herself a promise. 

Jake Griffin, had died trying to unite all people together. Wanting to co-exist and live in a world where no one should be judged, or exiled because of petty things, like where they came from. She took that on, promising herself and her father that when the time comes, she will unite both fronts, giving them the opportunity to live as humans should, by deciding for themselves how they should live.

She would achieve this, no matter what. That being said, it means her connections would have to be at a distance, if she got too close it could jeopardize everything. Allowing the people, she met on the Dropship to find comfort in her heart, or show them anymore attention then she needed to, would ruin her. 

And as she sat in between the two brunettes, who came from being unwanted, from being pushed aside and washed away, she shoved the need to fit in, to belong, no matter how unwanted and washed away she was as well. Because in her heart, she knew the real answer. She knew what had to happen first before unity can truly prevail, but with the two days left in the time frame that she was given, she hoped she could avoid that and skip to the part where they shook hands and agreed to coincide so that she can get out of this place as soon as she can.

The high voices brought her out of her train of thought. Octavia and Raven were now having a different conversation, speaking over her in teasing tones.

“What?” Clarke let out over their giggles, waiting to get caught up.

“Where did you go off to? I was just telling Reyes here that she couldn’t go a day without insulting lover boy,”

“Wick?” Clarke clarified, when Octavia nodded, she turned to find a raging Raven.

“Shit, here we go again,” Octavia joked as she and Clarke threw their heads back laughing at the expression that could kill.

“You know why don’t we talk about how Lincoln is too much of a pussy to actually stand up to your brother and be with you,” Raven directed at Octavia in haste, and the latter girl shut her mouth abruptly. When Raven directed her eyes at Clarke she wasn’t able to get a word in because Clarke beat her to the chase.

“Don’t even think about it, there’s nothing going on with Finn,” Clarke watched as both girls now froze, the laughter had died down and the atmosphere grew dense, “He’s sweet, and maybe, if I was someone else,” she paused, not really knowing why she was telling them this. It was really more for Raven’s benefit. Clarke realized that her friendship, no matter how little it was, with Raven outweighed anything she might have ever felt for Finn, which wasn’t much really. 

“He’s just not the one,” she determined, knowing that there was no time to think or wonder at the concept of ‘the one’.

“That wasn’t who I was going to refer to, but it’s okay Clarke, really,” 

Clarke ignored the first part of her claim, and instead bumped her shoulder playfully, “I don’t know what happened between you guys, not exactly anyways, but—”

“He cheated,” Raven muffled, glaring at the ceiling, “we came here together, after something happened,” Clarke didn’t interrupt to tell her she knew about Mount Weather Woods, “and he was forced to come, it was the only way we could be together, romantic huh?” she chuckled darkly. 

“What happened?”

“I think he was angry with me, or he was tired of being here, being away from his family. But it wasn’t even the epic walked in on him in bed with her, it was the been-flirting-for-a-couple-of weeks-and-fell-for-someone-else only to keep it to himself until I had no choice but to end it,” 

It fell silent once more, and they warmed up to it. It was kind of comforting, despite the sad fog that hovered over them.

“Where is she now?” Clarke asked curiously. Neither girl spoke, or even glanced her way but at the clench of Raven’s jaw, and the way Octavia retuned to pulling at the threads she knew that the question held so much, and the answer wouldn’t easily make it to her ears.

“He’s a dick Raven,” Octavia said instead. Clarke watched Raven roll her eyes but nod along anyway. 

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t make what happened any less real. I picked him, and after everything we’ve been through together, he picked someone else,”

Clarke saw the pain Raven tried to conceal, saw the way her heart was probably turning in her chest at the thought of another abandonment.

“I’d pick you,” Clarke wrapped her fingers around Raven’s wrist in consolation. Raven, startled by the gesture, turned her wrist over, slipping her hand into Clarke’s giving her a gentle squeeze in appreciation.

“So…” Clarke trailed off after a couple of seconds filled with light breathing in the quiet room, “I think I’ve figured out a way to get both sides what they want,” she informed the girls who were staring at her and each other warily.

“Fine, let’s hear it,” Raven answered, shifting so that she was leaning on her right side to show that Clarke had her full and undivided attention.

“When Lexa and the leaders from the twelve clans come into Polis, we meet with them to discuss a negotiation—”

“They don’t want to negotiate,” she was cut off by Octavia who received a pointed look for interrupting.

“No, they don’t want to negotiate because they think we have nothing to offer them, but, we do. We have supplies and resources that they don’t even know about. The technology will make farming and purifying the water supply much easier for them. Not to mention the houses we can help them build instead of their wooden cabins that catch fire the instant the sun burns too brightly, or their makeshift materials that don’t work as well as ours do.” Clarke ranted as her brain worked quickly to get all the words out before she was interrupted again, “The only reason they aren’t asking for it isn’t just because they don’t know we have it, but because Skicru is willingly to trading with them thereby giving them enough materials and items that they don’t need to enter in a treaty. If we cut off all ties between the Grounders and Skicru, then we force them into a negotiation,”

“What about Arkadia? The Grounders might, and I repeat might give in to this crazy idea if not beat us all to death for trying to cut ties, but what about Arkadia? They are also a threat Clarke,” Raven’s puzzled look gave Clarke all the encouragement to continue. Raven was thinking about it, considering all the possibilities of Clarke’s plan and that was good enough for Clarke.

“Arkadia is unprovoked. They have no reason to attack especially if they are keeping the idea of the Grounder’s existence quiet. We meet with Jaha and my mom in private, negotiate with them for the benefit of both the Grounders and their own. The Grounders have just as much to offer,”

“What about the wall?” Octavia’s voice rang in her ears.

“We find a way to slowly take it down too, but that’s farther into the future. Right now we just need to focus on getting both sides to realize they need the other to survive,”

“But they don’t Clarke, the Grounders have survived this far and long all on their own, and besides Blake wouldn’t go for it,”

“He told me he will,” she fought back. She didn’t understand why it took this sudden turn. It was fine for them to question her suggestions and ideas because it meant they were listening, considering, but when they offered pessimistic responses it meant that they thought it through and found enough problems to dismiss it.

“He told you?” raised eyebrows greeted her when she turned her head to the right and left taking in the astonishment that both girls held. 

“You don’t know my brother,” Octavia was serious and the butterflies in Clarke’s stomach took off. She was worried. She knew Bellamy was an asshole but she didn’t think he’d lie to her, or give her false hope in thinking she can solve this when really he was going to go to war either way.

“He’s sacrificed a lot, and I don’t just mean for me, which is…unbelievable. But he suffered for a long while,” Octavia’s eyes were glimmering, and the sudden shift in mood was taking its toll on them. 

“He’d do it all over again, that’s the kind of prick he is,” Raven mentioned softly. 

They were obviously talking about the same thing but she didn’t know what. She didn’t know what he must have done to gain such high praise, from Raven of all people, maybe he wasn’t who she thought he was. He had proved that much to her before, but there’s something about him. Something she couldn’t figure out or couldn’t bring herself to let the captivation grip her hard enough into figuring it out.

“My brother, he’s protective,” Clarke snorted at the biggest understatement of the year, Octavia ignored her continuing, “He’s all I have, besides Lincoln, who I’m not even sure of anymore,” she paused staring down at her hands, then turned her face to look directly at Clarke, “I just, I think that you not backing down when he’s being a dick is really helping all of us, but at the same time, you can’t put all your hope in this plan of yours. No matter what he says,”

“Your brother,” Clarke smirked at Octavia, “is a huge ass,” it got a scoff and a smirk, “but he’s different,” when no one said anything else, the three pairs of eyes on the ceiling, Clarke felt brave enough to resume, “he challenges me, you know, in this weird way where I don’t just want to prove myself to him but I feel like I need to for myself,”

“Is that a bad thing?” Octavia whispered softly.

“No,” Clarke answered barely able to control her breathing. 

It wasn’t a bad thing at all, in fact, he was giving her the opportunity to discover and become herself in ways she could only dream. Since she could remember, she was constantly shattered with “Be careful Clarke,”, “Watch out, Honey,”, “No, Clarke, it’s too dangerous,”, making her feel useless, like fragile glass that can’t help herself. Her whole life she was sheltered. Taking that big leap into jumping on that train and coming to Skicru was the most exhilarating thing she had ever done.

She was not trusted enough to help her father avoid death, or encouraged to expand and become something, anything, more. It was suffocating, being expected to live life a certain way, and not question or fight for anything else.

She was always under the protection of her parents, or Chancellor Jaha and his son, who grew very fond of her. She appreciated it, but those shackles were non-existent in Skicru. Even if they didn’t admit it, they knew her potential. 

Wick, Bryan and Jasper welcomed her into engineering as if she was more than her dad’s memory tool. They discussed things with her, waited for her response, even considered some of her suggestions. Monty and Harper, despite being in their own pining for each other little bubble, embraced her theories about the war that was coming or different methods of treating poison in a wound. Even Raven bantered with her, forcing her to dig deep into her mind to find ways to cope and deal with the pressure she was under. 

And Bellamy, he never looked at her like she was fragile. He didn’t tell her to stay back or stay behind when things got too crazy. Granted they weren’t under many situations where she was possibly in any danger, but even then, she’s sure he’d be confident in letting her fight for herself. 

“It’s like freedom,” her voice was barely audible, coming back to Octavia’s bedroom. She spoke so quietly she wasn’t sure if they heard her, but she knew they did when Octavia gripped her wrist in understanding. Octavia comprehended this better than any other soul, she was aware of how barriers crushed hope so easily, so willingly without a second glance. Clarke couldn’t imagine it, while she was shielded because her parents were overbearing and worried, Octavia was shielded because she wasn’t allowed to be alive. 

How fucked up, she thought, a burning sensation met the back of her throat. She couldn’t pretend to get it, not even if she tried, because the reality in this world they’re living in is fucked up. 

Arkadia was consuming. It was the best word to explain a place that took and took from its people without considering them first. Chancellor Jaha, in times of difficulty, explained that he did not create these rules, these laws, he is merely enforcing them to ensure their survival. They are after all, the only human life in the world, minus the Grounders. But, Clarke thought, how far would you go for survival? How much of humanity, or basic civil rights, would you have to give up just so you can make sure there’s enough food and water to last several more years?

Arkadia and the Grounders at war will only intensify the Chancellor’s behavior. Bellamy couldn’t be right about this, about going to war. She wouldn’t let him be. But, as her time on the Dropship progressed, she found that her run-ins with him were happening less and less. It made her wonder what he was doing instead. Alpha Squad had finished their intense four-week training, and with things quiet on both the Arkadian and Grounder front, there really wasn’t anything that could take up so much of his time. 

Octavia and Raven, they understood her, and she loved that feeling. They fell into a comfortable silence, seeming to forget that they have other responsibilities left waiting for them. Clarke didn’t want to think about the patients wondering how a half hour break transformed into an hour long break instead. Or about how when all this is over, when the war is stopped, when she’s sure they’re on their way to peace, she won’t be around. No, she pushed back that thought, those feelings, to the deepest darkest corners of her mind and let herself enjoy whatever comfort she had now.

It was nice, truly and undeniably nice how easy it was to joke around with them. How confident she felt in Raven’s presence, or how it was easy to be influenced by Octavia’s kindness. She had never had friends like this. People would usually stay clear of her, even those from her social class, for obvious reasons. 

But she should have known that it was too good to be true. Never in her life had she been able to completely and utterly fall into something she liked, or found some joy in. Because in the few minutes that followed, the door rattled, Octavia’s book shelves hammered against the wall, books thudding to the floor, and all three pairs of eyes widened.

The ground was shaking, it felt like an earthquake but it wasn’t one. Clarke knew it wasn’t for the simple fact of having heard a huge exploding sound right before the tremors began to work their way through the ground, up the bed post, and down her spine.


	11. Chapter 11

10.

_Hot red liquid was dripping down the faucet. The sink was covered in blood, thick and slippery as she tried to wash it down the drain. Her eyes shut still, her breathing trying to correct itself although the thoughts raised her anxiety and she was huffing out in exasperation._

_“Clarke, it’s fine,” the voice she hadn’t heard in a long while said to her, gently, lovingly, “Honey, it’s okay, just come here,” he coaxed her, struggling to smile with his teeth. She opened her eyes, but didn’t glance at him at all, just shook her head in annoyance and remained at the white, now red, porcelain sink, scrubbing until her hands ached._

_“Clarke!” he tried to yell, but the tiredness in his voice came through, stopping her short of her actions. She bit back a sob and shut her eyes tighter than ever, tears streaming down her face._

_“How could this happen?” she asked, trembling voice, hands, legs that threatened to give out any second._

_“Sweetie,” he pleaded and it was enough to send her eyes darting towards him. Her father was sat against the wall of the train station bathroom. Hand clutching the wound punctured above his chest, dangerously close to his heart as his blood, the same rouge coloured liquid that filled the sink, seeped out in the holes between his fingers. She rushed over to him, applying more pressure to the affected area._

_“Dad,” she began, forcing herself to look for whatever determination she had left in her. Whatever anger, hurt, and pain she felt over the events that just took place to guide her into channeling all her energy to making sure her father walked out of here alive and on his way to being well, “You will be okay! I promise, just stay awake and keep a tight hold on that wound,”_

_Her father’s chest rose slightly as he tried to laugh, it coming out as a wheezed chuckle instead. His breathing became erratic and heavy, she narrowed her eyes at him but he continued to breath like he ran a marathon and smile like he just got told the funniest joke in the world._

_“Dad!” she let out frustration taking over, but it only caused his smile to widen, meeting his teary eyes that refused to cry, just yet._

_“You’re stubborn,” he mumbled in amusement, “just like your mom,” it only fueled her anger at him. Hearing him talk about her mother like that, in a voice that held her up above the world, among the shining stars that he probably won’t see again if he continued to put stress on his body, disgusted her. She’s the reason he’s like this, why can’t he see that._

_Before she can scold him, there was a loud bang against the bathroom door. The handle began to move up and down furiously and voice echoed in the hall outside the small room they’ve locked themselves in. They were coming for them, no, they were already here. They were outside waiting patiently and defiantly, waiting to capture them and finish what they started_.

 

Clarke pushed her way against the crowd of young adults that gathered on the first floor. She was brought back from her reverie by the hand that slapped her back propelling her forward until she was near the front of the large group staring up at one Bellamy Blake.

When the blaring siren of an alarm went off right after the ground began to quiver, Octavia and Raven sprung up and moved efficiently with such ease as if they were prepared for this their whole lives. For all she knew they could have been. They called out to each other and to her as they made their way outside the bedroom and into the hall gathering anyone and everyone they could and guiding them to the bottom floor where they believed safety lied.

“Octavia, make sure there’s no one left then follow us down, if you find your brother tell him I’ll be in engineering figuring out what the fuck happened,” Raven said over her shoulder already making her way down the steps. She gestured for Clarke to follow and they began to descend behind the last group of boys and girls. It seemed the pain of Raven’s leg was forgotten because she was moving at a speed that Clarke with two good feet couldn’t match.

“What’s going on?” she asked erratically, following her down. Raven shouted to the rest of the group to head down and then switched directions and headed towards their own room. Clarke followed blindly when another tremor shook through them and an explosive sound rang in their ears. They met each other’s eyes and panic set in. It was one thing to hear the sound and feel the shake one time, but another thing to hear it again, and then again, and again.

“I counted four,” Clarke whispered once they were in the room, “all together there were four explosives,” she clarified stepping further into the room and glancing around trying to figure out what Raven was doing.

“They were bombs, if I had to guess, maybe an air raid. To hit the ground with such force and caused, what felt like a three-point-zero maybe three-point-five magnitude earthquake,” Clarke stayed silent, thoughts swimming in her head. Air raids meant it couldn’t have been the Grounders. They were stuck in traditional ways with limited to no use of technology at all besides farming and communicating but all that was thanks to their relationship with Skicru. The bombs came from somewhere else, and she prayed, so damn hard, that they came from someplace else and not the one place she had in mind.

“Raven, what are you doing?” Clarke’s toughness and gritted teeth betrayed her anger at the spiral of bad luck that doesn’t seem to be ending. Raven ignored her and flipped through her collection of notebooks and loose pieces of paper before retrieving a lined sheet of paper with scrawls across it. Clarke recognized it as the same sheet of paper Raven had written, erased, crossed out, and practically ripped up, carrying various codes on how to break through to the military section in the Arkadian system.

“Got it!” she said in relief, “Clarke, go down with the rest of them, I’m going to head to engineering,” but before Clarke could protest or ask what exactly was on that thin piece of paper, Raven scurried out of the room.

Clarke moved until the back of her knees met with her bed and she flopped down on it hard, with her elbows at her knees, and face in her hands.

No, this couldn’t be happening. Not now, not when things were starting to look up. Only they really weren’t. All she had was an idea, one that presented a lot of obstacles.

Suddenly, it all began to click, it was infuriatingly weird how silent both fronts were but knowing that this is what it has led to, that someone was planning an attack, it made more and more sense. She still couldn’t believe it. Her mind fell into a black hole, deeper and deeper before she realized and pulled herself out. The alarm still deafening, loud with warning, yet she took her time using the next few seconds to pick herself up and then down the steps.

When she got there, it was chaotic. No one knew what was going on and their questions were bouncing off the walls unanswered and repeated over and over. They didn’t know where the attacks came from, who was attacking, and if the attack was even over judging by the fear that coated their eyes and the nerves that racked their skin, causing jitters and fumbled words to come out of their mouths.

“Clarke,” she turned to Finn and Monty who stood in the middle of the crowd. She rushed to them only to be pushed to the side when there was a wave of ear-splitting shrieks and thundering shouts all at once. She didn’t even get to the two boys because the crowd shoved her forward, someone hit her shoulder harshly, another banged her head and the anxiety rushing through her veins was all too familiar.

She didn’t really know how that scene she pushed down to the deepest and murkiest corners of her mind reappeared as vividly as ever but the last time she witnessed it was days ago, in her reoccurring nightmare. She had never daydreamed, allowing such memories to flood her and keep her in a horrific trance. But the bile that rose, the heavy angst of what was to come, and the constant nagging of her logical brain that told her she should have known, that she did know but chose to be ignorant, was not enough to bring her back. It took a dark-haired brooding, and bitterly spoken man to do the job.

As she watched him now, standing tall on top of one of the empty tables, he commanded everyone’s attention without even speaking. His eyes floated across the room, the rage was evident but it was the flicker of panic that she only seemed to catch that made his composure rip through the tension in the air.

Next to him stood Miller, who surveyed the crowd just as carefully as he did. Clarke took this chance to do the same, her gaze crossing over Harper who was working to settle everyone down, Monty and Finn were still behind her, lost in the sea of confused and worked up people, and Octavia was nowhere to be seen. She turned her attention back to the two powerful forces at the front of the room to find Miller already staring at her. His eyes were narrow, debating, and before she could process it she saw him brush his elbow into Bellamy’s arm nudging him in her direction.

Those eyes she was starting to become too familiar with tightened when they met hers. She wasn’t greeted with the same semi-icy, semi-something she couldn’t decipher look that sent her stomach turning. Instead, she met a look that was so cold, so raw, and so livid she felt her stomach drop. He let his brown orbs slide past her and at the rowdy crowd in front of him who have seemingly forgotten that he was standing there.

“Quiet!” it was as if another bomb was dropped because his voice shook the ground and those who were still consumed in their terrified thoughts shut their mouths and gave him their full attention, “We don’t know what’s going on. There’s an attack and that’s all you need to know for now. Everyone needs to head back, stay in your rooms until it’s safe for you to come out. They cannot, will not scare us into running away. This is our home now! This is where we stand and where we will fight back and no one, not the Grounders with their threats or Arkadia with their bombs will take it away.”

The room was indifferent at first. Some people looking up at their leader with questioning wary glances, wondering how he could easily dismiss this, while others cheered on, supporting him full-heartedly. When he spoke his last word, a cry of approval met her ears as each person raised a hand in agreement. She was the only one who shook her head in disagreement, the only one who thought this ego of his was going to get them all killed.

Except that she wasn’t the only one.

“So The King has spoken and now we all have to listen to his fucked up plan until we’re covered in dirt and rubble,” Finn sneered, silencing the room. The hatred that covered Bellamy’s face was shuddering, if she hadn’t seen it too many times already she would have stayed frozen like every other breathing soul in the room, but she knew it by now. Even though she denies its effects on her, she can’t help that little shudder that rushes through her anyways.

“Shut the fuck up Collins and get moving,” a new voice called over them. She peeked behind Bellamy to see Murphy, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face. Finn opened his mouth but was met with a furious snarl and a voice that resonated to their inner core.

“You want to walk into that and die, go ahead.”

“He’s right,” Clarke said not thinking. The pace that all eyes took to find her made her flinch faintly. Bellamy’s eyes were daunting, his body language spoke loud and clear telling her to stop talking by the curl of his fingers forming fists, telling her to turn around by the clench of his jaw, and telling her to run as fast as she can away from him, from all of them by the way his chest puffed out and moved rather quickly in irritated breaths, up and down.

But she had already spoken. It was too late to back out now and as her father’s words rang in her ears, she was stubborn, and she’s sure Bellamy already knew that.

“You said you don’t know what’s going on. That means you have no clue whether the attack will continue, whether they’ll drop another bomb three miles away, or near us again or on top of us. We can’t stand our ground if there won’t be a ground to stand on,” she directed her words to the crowd that watched her in awe, “We need to leave now, just take whatever you have on you! Do not go back to your rooms or try to pack your things. We don’t have time,” she turned to Finn, heart still hammering in her chest for deifying every bone in her body that told her to shut up, “Did you have a place in mind? We can’t be out in the open,”

Finn nodded, eyes gleaming with pride and approval at her stance. She didn’t want it, not from him, not from any of them actually. She wasn’t doing this to challenge their rebel leader, or to prove her worth to them. She was tired and done with trying to make it work their way. It was her life on the line too, and she’d be damned if she died before she got to stick it to the council, Lexa, and Bellamy Blake.

“There’s a bunker, not too far from here. It is almost 100 feet—” Finn paused because another bomb was dropped, this time much closer to them because it vibrated the ground twice as hard as the first few times. The sound of the explosion was close too, like it was right outside their door. This was enough motivation for them. Everyone scrambled to get out, running ahead while Alpha guards tried to keep them orderly and Finn shoved past going to lead the way. She exchanged frantic looks with Monty who nodded his head in understanding and monitored the crowd.

She moved to go to the engineering room to find Raven and whoever remained and let them in on the new plan. The plan that will give them a chance to survive to see tomorrow when a rough, warm hand latched onto her wrist in a tight grip. She didn’t have to look to know who it was but she chanced a glare at him anyway.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he fumed. She was ready to object, to prove that her idea was much better than his death wish, when he jerked her forward and into a little alcove behind the spiral stairs.

“Hey, Bellamy, you need—”

“What game are you playing?” ruthlessness was dripping from his tone, he eyed her closely and she felt small and insignificant under his torturous gaze.

“What?” she asked confused and trying not to let him get to her.

“You told them, didn’t you?” he accused, fingers still closed around her small wrist. She glanced down, the callous that brushed the inner side of her wrist left tingling sensations to flutter through her but the feeling stopped when she registered his words.

“What?” she all but yelled this time, tugging her hand out of his grasp harshly, her own eyes narrowing at him.

“Problem with your hearing, Princess?” over his shoulder she could make out Miller lingering, watching the people of Skicru shifting away into the evening air. It still wasn’t dark out, but with the way the dim atmosphere hung around them she could’ve easily been fooled.

“I heard you just fine, I don’t really understand what you’re insinuating,” she bit back, except she did know what he was insinuating. He couldn’t be this paranoid with this much trust issues to actually think she gave away their location, when she, herself does not want to be found.

“Funny, it really is, a pretty blonde girl shows up out of nowhere, wanting nothing but peace only to go running to her people when things don’t go her way,” his condescending tone irked her. She wasn’t doing this with him now. She turned to walk away when he pulled her back in.

“Don’t touch me,” she pushed his broad shoulders back taking him by surprise. Her efforts were a waste seeing as he didn’t move an inch. It was the wrong move either way because fury was about to fall and hit her hard.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Griffin. You think you’re some leader, well leaders do what they think is best,” he deadpanned shaking his head vaguely at her. She fixed him with a steady look, for once she had the upper hand in their discussion and she wasn’t going to let it slip.

“I am doing that Bellamy. The fact that you can’t see it only proves to me how blinded by your ego—”

“Is that what you think?”

“It’s what your showing me by how your choosing to lead. Arrogance will only get you far and you don’t have to trust this decision, or me, but I do care about these people,”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said dark and heavy, she shifts from her left foot to her right.

“What does that mean?”

“Why do you lock yourself up in your room? You spend your days in medical, barely making conversation with anyone who tries to get to know you, only working on patching them up and then your back between those four walls. You rarely ever engage with some of the people who have seem to take a liking in you,” he listed off knowingly, she was curious as to how he knew all this, the way he read her scared every inch of her being. It must have showed on her face because a small smirk etched its way across his lips except it wasn’t teasing or amused, it was dry and humorless.

“Don’t act like you know me,” she mumbled, looking ahead focusing on his unruly hair, the way it curls near his ears, the freckles drawn-out by his cheek bones. Her cerulean eyes were anywhere that wasn’t windowing into his reckless demeanor.

“Oddly enough Princess, I do know you. I know enough to know that you are here looking for something else,”

Clarke had had enough. She was done walking away because she couldn’t deal with his superiority and egoistical behavior towards her. It doesn’t matter that she does have an ulterior motive, it doesn’t even matter that he’s accused her of betrayal. No, what bothered her was that she was onto something. She was progressing in her plans to avoid a war and now she was standing here, plans like burnt residue hanging in the air and a threat outside their walls that could hit them at any second.

“I’m not going to say this again. I am not here to fuck with you, Blake, and I didn’t tell the council about this place. How could I have when you just told me the events of my day?” she let out a sigh and decided to take a gentler route, “I was coming up with ways to get both sides to agree to a treaty, for both sides to co-exist without problems before the week was up,”

She was expecting another racy response but instead she heard silence. She risked a glance at his eyes instead of the area around him only to find that her suspicions of earlier were true. He had a gauzy look of guilt, or something like shame hidden behind his tough exterior. He kept his silence up, and when she peered over his shoulder again at Miller it was like light was peeking through broken glass.

“You…” she trailed off finally understanding. She mentally kicking herself in the ass, “You lied to me?” she asked in disbelief, “You were never going to take my suggestion. It was always war with you, wasn’t it? Kill them before they kill us…” she let her voice fall flat. She glared at him harder now, but the guilt that was present before was shoved away.

A distant sound enveloped them, another bomb except it sounded a long while away.

She’s wasted so much time here as it is, she needed to go to catch up with the others.  
Clarke was dithering, caught between worry over those who might be injured from the aftermath of the bombing, and anger over how stupid she was to think that Bellamy actually cared what she thought. How could she be so stupid, when on a good day he didn’t trust her, how can she think of him as anything more?

“You were in the way.” Was all he said, the clench of his jaw slackened only to tighten up again and lock when she shot him her best withering stare.

“How are you any different than Jaha?”

It was a slap in the face. He all but flinched at her sharp words but she didn’t have enough shit to give right now. He lied to her, let her go off on false hope only to distract herself from getting in the way of his plans. When he didn’t speak she stepped forward, invading his space, he stepped back, although still towering over her in his full height.

“I truly don’t know what’s stranger, how idiotically you behave for someone who’s supposed to look out for his people, or how easily you slip in and out of these mood swings of yours. Just when I’m starting to think you have a heart,” she didn’t finish that thought because she was swiftly backed up into the corner of the secluded alcove with her back pressed flush against the wall and little distance separating her from him.

The air between them grew hot and thick, and the sounds and worries of war was left behind them. Both were fuming, both were angry and spitting out words that they knew would feel like daggers in the back.

“If you’re looking for a heart, you won’t find one here. You wanted to leave, fine, go. You want to lead, fine, then follow your Spacewalker to the bunker and keep all of them there until the coast is clear,” a rush of cool air met her when he moved away. Miller having been standing there the whole time and most likely heard the entirety of their conversation followed him to where they disappeared after the second flight of stairs.

 

She managed to catch up to the group of them. They were moving at a fast pace, keeping their heads low and quivering out of sight when they see any movement up above them. She pushed her way to the front where she tapped Monty’s shoulder to get his attention.

He turned to her with relief in his eyes that warmed her heart briefly, “Where’s Jasper?” he looked around her, towards the back of the group but she shook her head.

“Sorry, Jasper, Octavia, Raven,” she confirmed, “they’re all back at the Dropship. I couldn’t go back for them, I had to make sure everyone here was alright,”

“Bellamy stayed behind with them?” at the mention of his name the acid in her stomach threatened to work its way up her throat and out, even with the lack of food she’s had today.

“Yeah,” and Monty knew better than to pry. He lodged into retelling her about where he had been during the first bomb and his own theories on the subject.

“Okay, but I don’t get it. Why use air raids?” she asked. She knew that in the hundred years or so since civilization prevailed, they had succeeded in recreating communicating devices, cars, and even some hovercrafts, but specific military units to drop explosives, was new.

“Better accuracy,” he replied. At the head of the group she could see Finn, he was pointing to a flat area a few steps ahead of them.

“From that high up, they could see us. They could probably see the Dropship; why didn’t they attack there? If it is better accuracy, if Arkadia is the one behind it, then why are they wasting their time hitting around the Dropship but not directly on it?”

Monty’s mouth hung open at the revelation. His eyes widened slightly and he let out a strangled breath, “No fucking clue,”

\---

The bunker was dark, covered in dirt and had continuous stairs that led them to the safety of being underground, far enough that if they happened to get bombed, the damaged would be very minimum. There was an abundant stench of burnt skin and raw terrain that dawdled for too long before it blended in and was forgotten about.

Someone asked Finn how he managed to find this place, to which he gave a small chuckle and a wink, claiming that he found it on one of his too many adventures in the woods. It came to Clarke’s attention that she didn’t know what purpose Finn served to the Dropship. While everyone had a role, he was always somewhere unexpected doing something no one else had thought to do, like explore the surrounding area of the deserted building they called home.

Being this far down, away from the chaos above should have been comforting but it felt like nothing close to Clarke. She entered with a heavy mind, ensuring that everyone that followed them down there had made it. Then turning to her own thoughts again, trying, aching to figure all this out.

Her conversation with Monty had stopped short when she moved ahead to speak with Finn. He held a glint in his eyes, one of praise she didn’t really want to see. Ignoring it, she managed to, with his help, get everyone inside, secure the door shut, and settle the handful of young kids who were scared, shaking from both the cool air of the bunker and the fear that seeped into their bones.

The sunshine she welcomed earlier felt miles away. As they were walking, she caught sight of thick, dark smoke from the bomb, covering the sky like a black cloud ready to burst. It was bad enough they lived on nuclear soaked ground, but to have an increase of air pollution, they won’t last the next hundred years.  
She took to caring for those who had minor injuries from standing too close to a shelf where something fell on their foot or they got rammed back into the wall as the earth around them shook. It was after her last examination, when she got up wiping her hands on the side of her thighs, did she notice that the entire room was silent, watching her, waiting. She glanced at Monty who nodded encouragingly. They were waiting for her to address the situation, and while she had previously spoke to the large crowd, she felt nervous. It was their leader that held his head so high up, whose words came out so fluidly and easily, who was able to entice them with each and every syllable. She was nowhere near that, yet, they stood patiently waiting, or as patiently as they could with aircrafts flying above with explosives at the ready.

“O-okay,” she mentally kicked herself for the shake in her voice, “We will be safe here. We just need to wait it out, once it looks safe enough to leave, we will. But just, breath,” she turned on the spot, taking in every wide eyed, innocent, or somewhat innocent, look the group around her gave. Yes, they were criminals. Yes, they had done things that ended them up in a rogue rebellious home with the idea of a revolution that could solve all their problems. Yes, they, in a way, were a threat to the system.

But, they were still human. They weren’t the ones calling the shots, or firing them either. They just needed a place to belong, a place that wouldn’t punish them for their mistakes but instead guide them into not repeating them.

“I know you’re all worried and scared. But that fear you have, it’s what makes this situation bearable. You feel, and you understand that feeling. It means you value your life, and so do I. Nothing will happen while we are here. So just relax, or try to at least, and know that we will get through this,” she continued with one formative nod. She stepped to the side pulling Monty to trail after her.

“Tell me who’s missing?” she asked, glancing back at the now scattered crowd. Some looks of relief met her while some looks of panic subsided enough that it was only anxiousness left. That was enough for now. They trusted her to keep them safe and she would deliver if it was the last thing she did. It seemed she wasn’t so bad at the motivational speech thing as she thought she was. She brushed past the thought of how Bellamy would look at her now, if he saw how she was able to handle the situation. Would he look at her in that intent way he did, or would he growl at her attempt at taking away his leadership role? A leadership role she didn’t want really, and by the looks of it, he didn’t want it either.

“Besides Bellamy, Jasper, Raven and Octavia,” Monty started, the hair covering an inch of his forehead flicked to the side as he moved, “I think about five or six more, a guy named Sterling was supposed to be here with the rest of Alpha Squad, and then we have Wick and Bryan in engineering,” he counted on his fingers, “Oh and Miller,” he added in afterthought. Clarke pursed her lips but didn’t say anything.

A quick look at the people in the room, she noticed another person missing as well. The cynical, loud-mouthed and now dangerous delinquent, Murphy, was nowhere to be seen. She silently thanked whatever good was left in this world for that. She really didn’t want to deal with him in such closed confinements.

“Thanks Monty, go see if Harper needs anything,” she patted his shoulder but he didn’t move.

“Clarke,” his voice was thick with something that bordered concern, “we don’t have much in this bunker,” she took another proper scan of the room, the overview was as bad as Monty made it out to be. There were a few supplies locked up in a broken wooden barrel that had mold and dirt up the side. A handful of orange blankets, a few flashlights, and a litter of shredded notebook paper that was yellow and burnt. There wasn’t any food or water.

“There is no way anyone is leaving here, but the attack has been going on for a while. It has to end soon,”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if they won’t stop until there’s nothing left here but rubble and the smell of death?”

“Don’t think like that and don’t talk so loud,” she hissed pulling him farther into seclusion.

“Jasper is still there,” Monty shook his head in disbelief and disgust, “I left him behind! My brother!” he whisper-shouted angry with himself, angry with the world. Softness took over Clarke’s features. The feeling of leaving behind someone you love, someone who is family to you was too close to her heart.

In that second she broke a rule, her own rule of getting too close. She pulled Monty into a tight embrace to which he gladly returned. She held him for a minute longer and as she pulled away she muttered in a voice so low, “He will be okay, and so will you,” it was a promise she couldn’t really make, but Monty took the words like a saving grace anyway.

“Princess,” Finn sauntered over to them, hair flopping and fingers curling around the edges of his jacket. Monty taking this as his cue, left without another word and an air of sadness.

“Is everyone—”

“Yeah, they’re all good. Like you said it should pass soon,” he gave her a scrutiny look, almost challenging her to admit that she was exhausted and frustrated with life. She was, but him prying won’t help it get any better.

“Alright then, anything else?” she risked asking but then instantly regretting in when she heard him next.

“How are you doing?”

It was slowly becoming more clear to her that Finn was just as she had always thought he was. He was kind, and caring, and truly wanted to live in a world where peace wasn’t a punchline of a joke, but the embodiment of civilization. She felt for him, fuck she understood him, but he in turn didn’t understand her. He asked all the wrong questions, looking for all the wrong answers. He was right in taking the stand against Bellamy’s deluded plan, yet so fucking wrong in believing that the people, their people, would willingly step aside and welcome outsiders.

She was so fucking wrong too.

“I’m fine,” she lied through her teeth and even though he knew, he let it slide. The one good thing he’s done so far. The thought of what he had done to Raven entered her mind, actually it really never left since she confessed it. People make mistakes though. Sadly, he had let go of someone who was so honest and good-hearted, despite her cracks at feigning otherwise.

“It’s all going to be okay,” his attitude was gentle, carrying a softness that was just Finn Collins.

She smiled tightly and nodded along anyway, as if her well-being was really her biggest concern. She gave an acknowledging shrug of the shoulders and walked around him to sit near a group of teenage girls who were huddled close, speaking in even tones, distracting themselves. They smiled at her lightly as she sat down and while they tried to include her in their discussion she gracefully bowed out, her own thoughts consuming her.

A part of her was still hurt that she was put on a dead-end quest at securing a world that didn’t have to undergo war to achieve amity. She couldn’t help the nagging voice that told her she should have known. That she was a huge idiot for not knowing that Bellamy Blake would lie, blatantly, to her face. It just didn’t seem real to her though. She knew the kind of asshole he could be. If anything she was probably the person who was at the end of his temper tantrums the most, however, it didn’t seem like he would so effortlessly lead her on like that.

She remembered staring up at the night sky with his heated body close, the smallest look of defeat in his eyes, and the tension dense, like it always is between them. He seemed real, genuine, and he caught her by surprise when he told her she had a week to come up with a plan. Truth is, he wasn’t around in the last five days, and that was enough evidence and the fact that he admitted it moments ago, that proved he had no intention of conforming to whatever ‘plan’ she came up with.

A loud rumble met their ears and then the ground began shaking again, only this time stronger. So much stronger that they fell over, one on top of the other. Someone tumbled over Clarke, the zipper of their sweater catching against her cheek.

A sound of glass crashing against hard concrete rang. Clarke tried sitting up, the weight of the others and the plummeting dirt keeping her down. There was no glass anywhere though, she moved to lean on her elbows and found that there wasn’t anyone seriously injured. Brief relief engulfed her but died soon after another wave rolled the ground underneath them.

She heard cries and screams around her, Monty covering Harper’s head, wrapping himself around her. Some of Alpha and Beta Squad huddling with the younger ones tightly, from her position she had no sight of Finn.

Three minutes later, and the world grew quiet again. They were able to get up, Clarke checking for damages, Finn who had been against the far wall was inspecting the bunker around them, and members of Alpha Squad questioning each other about what the next step should be.

The next step was to stay there. Stay as silent and as still as they could be.

The bomb that just hit was a metaphor. It shook entirely around them, shaking their beliefs, threatening their life style, and reminding them that wherever they go, how deep into the soil they find themselves, they can never hide. For it will descend on them, and explode this realm into pieces.

 

It was hours later, when a hum of stomach rumbles was followed by distant protests of hunger that boredom took on its most accurate form. It seemed that the distress that smeared their hearts when they first arrive had disappeared and everyone was getting antsy, ready to leave the darkness. Two flashlights of the seven they found were out, and the sun had set long ago although they wouldn’t have noticed either way.

Clarke stared down at her father’s watch, thankful that she didn’t forget to wear it this morning. She never forgot, but in the off chance that she did, she’s glad today wasn’t one of those days. She sighed again, it becoming her favourite thing as of late. It always felt like she needed the extra help to breathe. She needed a deep intake before a smooth exhale to control her feelings.

Looking around the room, she noticed those who weren’t pained by hunger, slept, and only a few stayed quiet, still in anxiety mode. Thankfully no tremors surfaced after the earlier traumatic wave that hit. She didn’t know if it was safe to leave or not. She’d be damned if she would gamble any one of them to go check even though Harper and another boy, Connor, offered to check it out.

“We need to go check on our people,” Connor had said referring to the rest of Skicru that were at the Dropship. Clarke didn’t allow herself to think about them after the biggest shake that drove them. She did not want to imagine Raven’s lifeless body or Jasper’s last words to her were some humorless joke she was too busy thinking to actually listen to.

“I know. We will, but we have to stay here until it’s safe. I can’t take a chance on either of you going and then having another bomb go off,” they were struggling with this for a while until ultimately reeling back and accepting her words.

It wasn’t for another hour and a half that they heard footsteps from above, accompanied by a couple curse words and then a pull of the door.

“Octavia!” a chorus of her name was heard from them as each person realized the dark haired beauty walk down the final steps. Behind her, Lincoln came into view speaking in hushed tones to Conner and Finn then directing them up ahead. A scurry of feet rushed past her, she watched as the clambered up the steps and out of reach.

“What happened?” she asked Octavia when she was close enough. Harper and Monty were at her side eagerly awaiting her response.

“They bombed close to the Dropship, I don’t think anyone got hurt, but a few miles past the ruined building, Sterling, Monroe and Mel were caught in the aftermath,” she explained out of breath.

“What do you mean?” a raised eyebrow from Harper as all three of them tried to dissect the information.

“I don’t know why those idiots were out there, but they didn’t make it back to the ‘ship in time and there was a massive explosion. It was a five magnitude or something, Raven said it was the worse that came from a bomb since the nuclear war,”

“Are they okay?” Monty spoke this time.

“I don’t know. Bellamy and Murphy went after them; we came for you guys. You were buried under so much rock we had to dig our way through for forty-five minutes before we could get to you,”

“If the bomb hit near the entrance to the other side of the wall, then how the hell did we feel that and get buried under that much rock?” Harper was asking a very good question. As Clarke remained quiet, still trying to come up with a response to the shit that’s happened in less than six hours, she thanked Harper and Monty for the interrogation.

“They dropped two at the same time, one near here, and one near there. Wick and Jasper were trying to communicate with some of you guys but half of the Squad left their walkie-talkies behind and the other half were out of range,” Octavia brushed her long bangs back. Lincoln reappeared then gesturing to all of them that it was time to go.

“Jasper’s okay?” Monty let out a breath that showed to have been heavily sitting on his chest. Octavia confirmed with a small smile pushing him ahead with Harper following closely leaving only her and Clarke behind.

“Octavia, what the hell is going on?” Clarke finally finding her voice, asked in desperation. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. Arkadia, if it even was them although she was sure it was by this point, was dropping bombs in the area around them yet not directly on them.

What game were they playing, and why did they choose to play it now?

“I have no idea, Clarke. All I know is that it’s serious now, more serious than we ever thought it was,” at that note, they climbed the stairs and welcomed the dawn. A gleam of orange and yellow peeked over the horizon, lighting up the sky a little against the dark blue. On one side of the earth the faint hue of the moon was still there, on the other side, the sun was getting ready to come out.

“…safe to go back. Keep your eyes sharp, move quickly,” she caught the end of Lincoln’s dialogue. Bodies propelled forward, trying and failing to keep be noiseless, in a straight line.

Around them the aether was demolishing. It felt like a plead, a cry for help. A surge of smog, scented with a fiery smell, found its way into their nostrils. Holes covered the surfaces below them, smoke and black ash twirling across, over, and in between the trees. The earth, on this side of town, was deteriorating, and it wasn’t due to the atomic scum that caked the grass, the clouds, and the water over the last hundred years.

Clarke wanted to cry. How could they ruin their home like this? It was bad enough, it was horrible enough to witness and hear retellings of their repulsive history but to repeat it, knowingly, was another thing all together. But what could she expect? They were humans. Humans who had a knack for forgetting their past, and a desire to test themselves, burden themselves with pain and welcome, gladly, self-destruction.

The speed at which her brain was powering was unbelievable. She hadn’t felt this way since that night three months ago, now four, seeing as she’s been among Skicru for a little over a month. She needed to be alone, needed the space to expand and those imaginable wings to stretch out and carry her away.

It was stupid to stow away from them but she had no choice. She believed she didn’t anyways. She wasn’t going to break down, not in front of them, not ever again. In order to avoid it though, she needed to get away. So she waited until Octavia and Lincoln, bringing up the rear of the large group, to be far ahead of her, and then made a run for it.

Careful not to run into any of the deep holes, or twist along the wrong side of the woods, she sprinted forward until her chest started to burn. Without realizing it she found herself past the Dropship and near the detached building they snuck into and under to get past the wall, a wall that as she looked ahead, couldn’t really see all that clearly. It wasn’t just the fog covering it up, but like it wasn’t even there anymore.

She heard voices suddenly, after the rush of heat evaporated from her chest and the soft ringing calmed in her ears she could make out the distinct voices of three males, and one female. She followed them, until she encountered their backs at the edge of a cliff. One of them must have heard her because they recoiled, looking over their broad shoulder to meet her eyes.

A distant voice, that didn’t come from the three figures standing on the outer ledge, called out, “I’m almost there, once I have her pull us up!” She walked forward, standing next to Bellamy who watched her, eyes focused on the cut by her cheek and across her nose. While none of the others got hurt, thankfully seeing as there were no medical supplies or ways to help heal them, she managed to get a few scrapes from being flung to the side during the final course of the bombing.

“I’d say he’s heard one too many of your motivational speeches,” Murphy sneered glancing over at the two of them. Next to him, Monroe, a short girl with light braided hair and an extremely worried expression on her face dropped to her knees, careful not to overstep and fall down the seventy-foot drop that obviously came from the unfortunate bombing.

Bellamy looked down as well, and in his gruff unamused voice muttered, “Shut up, Murphy,”

Her eyes turned to peer down and she felt her legs give in. With all her strength she persisted to stand still. The girl, Mel, was half way down the deep pit. If she were to fall, hit her head wrong against the cold hard ground, she would be dead. Clarke tried not to think of this, without even glancing around, she knew everyone else was avoiding the same thoughts that circled their brains.

Murphy’s breathing was hefty, Monroe was on the verge of tears, and Bellamy was tall and emotionless. Sterling, who Clarke realized she didn’t even know his last name, not that she made an effort which made it hurt all the more, was close to Mel now. He reached out a hand to her, and the girl lifted hers carefully to grab onto his when the unexpected happened.

The thin rope that was tied around one of the poles peeking through the foundation of the building gave in, slipping down before anybody could grab hold of it. Bellamy moved into action, practically going over the edge, hoarsely shouting the boy’s name.

Clarke let the gravel under her feet and around them stay in her view, not willing herself to watch the boy she never got to know collapse with a drumming thud.

A shriek came from between Monroe’s lips, even Murphy looked sick. Hands and knees shaking, Clarke attempted to glimpse at Mel only to find the girl sobbing against the rock she’s latched her fingertips against.

“You can’t save them all,” Murphy’s voice cut through, “Let’s go, we still have a couple people from Gamma Squad that were out there collecting supplies. We need to go find them, we’ll come back for her.”

Clarke glared at him, not believing how fucking selfish he was being. She observed Bellamy who was still facing Mel and the blurry vision of Sterling’s dead body. He gave the impression to be debating Murphy’s words, disbelief was not even close to how she was really feeling. Just as she was about to speak up, he reached his full height again, eyes never leaving the bottom of the pit.

“Mel,” he called out to her, “Focus on me, you can do this,”

A cry came from Mel down below, above however, Clarke was surprised, and Murphy groaned.

“I can’t,” Mel wailed, clinging to the rock that was supporting her body weight. It was only a matter of time before it couldn’t any longer.

“Yes you can. You’re strong,” the grumble in Bellamy’s throat gave indication to his frustration and worry that threatened his tough façade.

“I’m not strong, stubborn maybe,”

“So be stubborn a little longer,” he commanded.

Clarke watched with new interest. She paid attention to the way his eyes turned into a golden brown as he pressed on with determination. The kindness that glazed his features was soft, and it took her breath away. She had never seen Bellamy like this. She knew he cared about his people, about Skicru, especially with the way he was perceived by many of them, but seeing him now, like this, crouched down while speaking with such precision, with so much heart, it showed her something she wasn’t sure she wanted to see.

It showed her the real him. Not the one who hid behind his collected, calm behaviour, and his bleakness with words that could cut glass. It was his genuine self, the self he tried to hide from Clarke when he told she wouldn’t find a heart within him. There was one, he was just possessive over it. He just wanted it to vanish, to him, it showed weakness.

Clarke dragged her gaze away from his strong jaw, and fierce draw of his lips when she felt eyes scorching her cheeks. She peered through her lashes to find Murphy, amusement in his eyes and a hue of understanding at what he had just witnessed. She flushed, backing away, enough that if she were to fall down the bomb induced hole, it would be too soon.

“You’re not gonna die, you hear me?” he asked Mel, and Mel bobbed her head between gasps and cries with whatever power was left in her.

“I told you, you can’t save everyone. Besides, we’re out of rope and by the time we get back with some she would have slipped and crashed down, probably having Sterling break her fall,” Murphy said with his low and snarky drawl.

“Then run. Go get the rope, equipment, whatever will help her. Don’t call for anyone else, get the stuff and run back,”

“But the others—”

“We don’t know if the other’s even made it,” Bellamy shouted now, “Go Murphy,” but Murphy stood in place until Monroe got up from her position, eyes watered out.

“She was Sterling’s friend back at the Ark,” she said lowly, “he was one of us, he was with me,” she paused taking in a shaky breath, “I’ll go,”

“You both will,” at the finality of Bellamy’s words, Murphy reluctantly stepped aside to let Monroe take the lead, trailing behind her in haste.

“You’re sure we can save her?” Clarke broke the eeriness that surrounded them.

“Yes,” although he was firm in his answer she saw the tick in his jaw, the brief flash of hesitation in truly not knowing how this was going to end.

“You were right,” Clarke found herself saying. He went rigid, eyeing her over with a quizzed expression.

“I usually am,” he crouched back down to catch Mel’s eyes who was now taking quick breaths, “about what?” he finally asked, index and middle finger pressing down on the ground in front of him. Clarke mimicked his position, bending her knees and resting on her heels.

“It’s bigger than us all,” she murmured. She sensed him regarding her, almost in the same new interest she had done with him. If he wanted to say something, he managed to talk himself out of it because she saw his pink lips part and then close strictly.

They stayed like that for a while, calling out coos and reassurances to Mel who was starting to lose faith. Murphy and Monroe came back minutes later, only this time with Octavia and Lincoln in tow.

“I told you not to get anybody else,” Bellamy said in anger. Octavia rolled her eyes at her brother pulling the different types of rope and wires from behind her. Working quickly, they managed to create a sturdy long cable that will, hopefully, last this time.

“I’ll go down,” Octavia said, however was strongly discouraged and dismissed by two tall, dark and incredibly resilient men who cared for her all too much to let her do it. Clarke swallowed the envy, the idea of having someone actually fight for you, love you enough _to_ fight for you, and focused on the issue at hand.

“I’ll do it,” she stated. Murphy clapped sarcastically then beaconed her forward to tie the rope around her waist.

“Like hell,” a rough tug at her shoulders brought her back, she curved her upper body to see Bellamy furiously eyeing her.

“What? I’m the smallest next to Octavia and Monroe who can be easily brought down and back up with Mel”

“You can’t carry her back up alone,”

“There’s you and Lincoln to help pull us up, it will be fine,” she deadpanned but his large hands gripped both shoulders now pushing her behind him.

“Doesn’t matter, these are my people,”

“Contrary to popular belief asshole, they’re mine too,” hurt was evident in her features and she knew he noticed. It didn’t faze him though, bringing her back to her earlier predicament. He only ever showed her what he wanted to, only ever told her what he wanted to, usually consisting of spiteful comments that kept her at bay. Whether he considered her as ‘his people’ or not, it didn’t matter. Right now there was a girl that needed saving.

Lincoln worked on securing the end of the rope to the same pole that the former rope slipped from. Murphy and Octavia were fastening Bellamy in as Monroe talked to Mel, lacking to ease her woes by the sound of the unbashful sobs echoing around them.

“As soon as I’ve got her, pull us up,” Bellamy directed, stepping back slowly.

“Famous last words,” Murphy scoffed with a straight-face. His lack of humor was getting to be annoying, if Bellamy didn’t save this girl and come back up fast, Clarke was going to push Murphy down next.

“Shut up Murphy,” the Blake siblings said in unison, smirking at each other like they shared an inside joke. She watched as Bellamy eased back, his front facing them, gauging her expression to the point where she became self-cautious. In no world would she want to admit that she was worried about the Skicru leader, she wouldn’t if any of the other’s asked her, but to herself, deep down, she was. For all they knew she would be the one on the verge of pushing him down, yet, she was slowly grasping the kind of person he was.

It wasn’t all black and white. Not with him at least. Now that she’s thinking about it, not with anything, actually. There were shades of grey, shades that reminded her of grief and pain and the fact that there is still the mystery of what just happened to them.

He disappeared behind the edge. She waited, planted in her spot while the others lowered him down slowly. The sun was now making an appearance, yellow and gold rays beaming down at them. A breeze, cool and enchanting, whizzed past them, all she could think of is the madness going on beyond the wall, and the dead body that lied seventy feet below.

Dropping to her knees, she leaned over getting a view of the top of Bellamy’s black hair. He was closer to Mel now, closer than Sterling had been. He moved so that he was only an inch away and grabbed hold of her. Mel, through a few coaxing words, let go of her death grip on the rock and wrapped her arms around Bellamy’s neck. Lincoln tightened his hold on the rope, Murphy in front of him pulling along.

Bellamy and Mel were halfway up, the rope maintaining its hold until it couldn’t anymore. The two cords that were tied together gave in, and suddenly instead of one continuous rope, it split into two parts.

What happened next caused a type of panic that Clarke had never felt before. Her heart stopped in her chest, and she scrambled from her spot to grab hold of the torn wire. The two figures dangling by said rope, dropped further until they were jerked to a halt when all five of them grabbed at it.

“What the hell happened up there?” Bellamy called up to them.

“Hang on Bell,” Octavia’s fraught voice called back to her brother.

Except he couldn’t really hang on, the rope that was fashioned was not expecting the pressure of two bodies, and a steep drop. Even with all hands on the rope, the smaller section was what they were now grovelling onto. Lincoln’s muscles bulged, his teeth clenched as he went to haul the coiling rope closer to his body but it seemed to be useless.

“You have to cut her loose,” Murphy yelled, and Clarke was seconds away of kicking him down, if it wasn’t for the fact that they needed him to help, she would have done it by now.

They didn’t hear Bellamy’s response. Cautiously and strategically, they moved about so that they were distributed evenly enough with the minimum space they had, to pull efficiently. Together, they managed to get them up without another hitch.

With the two of them coming into view, she felt a wash of solace over her body. Mel landed on top of an exhausted Murphy who eyed her with some apprehension. Monroe went to help her up whilst Octavia rushed to Bellamy embracing him in a hug to which he happily returned. From over his sister’s shoulder, he scrutinized Clarke, eyeballing her.

“You seemed worried, Princess,” at the curve of his lips and the way the word ‘princess’ rolled off his tongue she was tempted into agreeing, admitting that yes Bellamy, she was terrified and in truth she didn’t know why because it would probably be better if he weren’t in the picture. She would get her way, avoid war, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to see it that way. He was needed here. But she had already told him he was right today, his ego didn’t need any more boosting.

“Not at all, Blake,” she stated as nonchalantly as she could. She didn’t fool anyone, not with the way her chest was puffing, her cheeks red in colour, or the way her blue spheres involuntary lit up as she caught sight of his forehead come from behind the threshold.  
\---

Walking into the Dropship was like a dream. Back in the smelly, cringe-worthy bunker, she thought that at the rate the air raids were going, they probably wouldn’t see this place again.

“Oh thank God,” a force hit Clarke, wrapping scrawny arms around her. She moved back to see it was Jasper, he smiled at her and then went to embrace Octavia. Clarke found Monty and gave a short grin in understanding. The brothers were reunited.

“It’s bad,” she heard Jasper say to Bellamy, who was ready to snap someone’s neck. Murphy raced ahead with Jasper and Monty, in a direction Clarke could only assume would lead them to the engineering room. Lincoln and Bellamy shared a strange look, with the former wrapping his hand around the base of Octavia’s back, going after the three guys.

Monroe was next to Mel, who had her arm elevated in front of her. She had sprained her wrist during her initial fall but with her amazing clutch in holding her body weight up, she put added stress on it that now requires her to wear a cast for a few months.

“Get her some ice. I’ll meet you in medical in a few minutes,” Clarke instructed before heading to the room that supposedly held bad news, and maybe, just maybe, all the answers.

 

It was a cluster of voices all at once that encompassed her when she entered the cool room. There was some damage done, with computer parts shattered across the floor, buttons from the keyboard scattered as she stepped on one of them and glass shards in a pool of red by the far wall. Against it were Miller and Bryan holding each other. Bryan was seated on one of the desk chairs, a large piece of glass in his side soaking his shirt with blood.

She rushed over to him without warning or paying attention to the beat-up area around her.

“Help him, please,” Miller begged. Shock overcame her features, not because of who Miller cared about, but because he was begging, pleading in a way that was all too familiar to Clarke.

“Of course,” she said automatically then proceeded to assess the injury. Miller had his forehead pressed against Bryan's, soothing his pain with warm words and scattered kisses.  
She wanted to suggest moving him but knew Miller wouldn’t allow it, besides, by the looks of it, Bryan had a better chance of surviving if he stayed where he was. She ripped his shirt exposing his skin, the place where the glass met his abdomen.

“It looks pretty deep. You’re not showing any signs of anything other than discomfort so I think it’s safe to say that it didn’t hit any major organs,” she thought out loud hoping it will ease both guys, “I’m just going to need some things from the med room,”

“I’ll get it,” Miller shot up.

“No, stay with him,” Bellamy surprised them. He stood behind Clarke having watched the entire exchange, “Jasper,” he summoned to the goggled boy, “get Clarke what she needs from medical and call Harper to wrap Mel’s arm. I’m assuming she knows how?” his question directed at Clarke with a quirked eyebrow, she moved her neck up and down, still astounded. Jasper invaded her vision, prodding her to give him the list of supplies she needed.

“Got it,” he established rushing out of the room after she gave him detailed instructions on what to get and how to go about finding them. Feeling like she was kind of invading the couple’s moment, she stepped to the side promising to return as soon as Jasper comes back. She emphasized the amount of pressure that was needed to keep the blood from pouring out then walked closer to the main operating unit.

“This is an overview of all the places that were hit with bombs,” Raven indicated with a wave of the hand at the screen above that spread out like a map in front of them. She noticed an obvious pattern, the attacks were made on areas around the walls but not necessarily on them. The force was enough to cause severe damage to surrounding areas such as Clarke’s inability to see the wall when she first stumbled upon the gang by the building, and the hole in the ground that took Sterling’s life.

“You got through to the military base?” Bellamy asked, shrugging out of his coat.

“After ten failed attempts, yes. Except I couldn’t do shit to un authorize the attacks. They kept them coming, it was commanded by Arkadia that much I know, but while I was trying to override it, another system or something, I’m not even sure what, was on the same server blocking my attempts,”

“It wasn’t someone in Arkadia?”

“No,” Raven shrugged, flickering through the adjacent screen almost as if proving to them that there was no possible way around the unexpected user who was deliberately locking her out.

Any other thought was rapidly ceased because the screen that held the map now held an image of Thelonious Jaha. This time he wasn’t behind a pillar or among the council members. He was alone, a grey wall behind him matching his attire and a solemn expression on his face.

“I come today to you, citizens of Arkadia, with tragic news. The senseless and irrational group known as Skicru have performed an inexplicable act today. They have attempted to destroy the wall that we have built to keep you safe. To keep your children, wives, husbands, and innocent workers of Arkadia safe from harm,” jaws were dropped all over the room, no one took their eyes off the screen, “Their leader, Bellamy Blake, is responsible for this act of indecency. They are trying to test our patience, our faith, and our will to survive but they are mistaken. We will prevail, we will keep each other safe. Skicru will pay for their mistake. I am profoundly delighted that none of our people were harmed with their foolishness. Stay safe and God speed,”

Bellamy’s arms were now crossed over his chest, his face impassive and his body ready to attack. Octavia chocked on her spit, Lincoln rubbed a hand over his face, Wick and Murphy exchanging looks of bewilderment, and the saddened couple, paying for a mistake covered up with lies was lost in their own world. Clarke, Raven and Monty froze still not knowing what to do next.

Like a lightbulb moment, it all clicked in Clarke’s head. Why the attacks were around the wall, aimed at the Grounders, the area around the Dropship, even close to the bunker. Why they weren’t able to hack into the military system until it was too late, why Bellamy was the sole person that this burden had fallen on.

“He did this on purpose,” Clarke supplied before anyone else could get a word in, they turned to look at her with fixed glances, “He made sure we couldn’t get into the military system, made sure that we were convinced Arkadia was only trying to keep the idea of life outside the walls a myth when in fact they were plotting their attack. They hit Polis no doubt, attempting to destroy the Grounders. They hit the area outside the Dropship trying to scare us off, and they attacked the wall but caused no permanent damage to frame us,” she moved closer to Raven and the screen that reopened the map once the broadcasted message ended, pointing out the spaces of ruined ground.

“But that doesn’t prove his claim that we did it. There were air raids,” Murphy started but Clarke beat him to it.

“To them and to us there were, but to anybody else, to the Grounders, we could’ve fired missiles because the areas that were hit weren’t that far from us,”

“How does this even help them? They fucked up this part of Arkadia for what? To prove a point?” Murphy continued, glaring at the screen.

“It’s an abandoned part of town, I bet he doesn’t even consider it Arkadia. He doesn’t care what happens to it. This was meant to scare us into backing out of a rebellion, meant to frame us so that when we do rebel we don’t have any supporters, and I have a feeling he’s hoping that by pinning this on us, the Grounders would believe it and turn on us too,” Raven answered this time.

“If we’re fighting the Grounders than he doesn’t have to worry about anything. We’ll kill each other for him. He can just sit and watch” Octavia added inaudibly. They all still heard her, loud and clear.

“They’ll believe us, Lincoln will tell them,” Raven gestured with a flip of the head towards the big guy by the door who had a torn expression on his face.

“If what you’re saying is true, then my people will believe it. They’ll look for any excuse to go against the people of Arkadia, even Skicru. I can’t help you, they already see me as a traitor by being on this side of the wall when the attack was going on,”

It all dawned on them then. They’re screwed.

Clarke fought against it, she fought so hard against the truth that a part of her had always known.

War was the only answer; it had always been but she was so disbursed with the idea that maybe it can be avoided to see that it can’t because it is the only way to get peace or a shot at it.

Clarke stared at Bellamy, and with a daring tone in her voice that revealed her discomfort and devastation at the truth of the matter, she spoke as clearly as she ever did.

“Looks like you got your fight,”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the reason why I started writing this story. I pictured these two in those situations described below so vividly while listening to this song one day and it all fell into my lap. 
> 
> I am so obsessed with this song, with this story, with these two idiots that I had to write it all down. It ended up being very long so I had to cut it into two parts. 
> 
> Fast Car by Jonas Blue ft. Dakota is a remix to the original, but it was the version I was blasting while I wrote, edited, and posted this chapter. Definitely listen to it as you read it, or not, up to you. It is much better with the music though ;)
> 
> Thank you so much for the support and awesome comments thus far. I hope this tale continues to capture you and you enjoy it.

11.

 

Clarke sat with her back against the arm rest of the couch. Her knees perched up, with her sketchbook balancing against them, and a pencil rolling between her forefinger and thumb. She hadn’t touched that black hardcover book since grabbing the note Raven left on top of it.

In the three days that followed the attack on the wall, that Skicru was framed for conducting, the air shifted in such a way that it was as if all the light was snuffed out of the world. The clouds, dark and grim, covered the sky and it rained constantly, day and night. It was like the earth knew what was coming, and how fast it would get here.

To herself, Clarke would recall everything that has happened to her since coming to the Dropship. Since she said goodbye to what she always thought of as home and ran away. Life was truly funny that way, leaving one place only to find another where she feels like she belongs even less than she ever did.

After she had patched up Bryan, the people in the room quickly filtered out. One by one they came up with excuses, with reasons such as returning to make more gun powder, Jasper, fixing the rovers, Raven, refusing to admit their pining love and needing an excuse to leave so pretending to go ‘talk’, Harper and Monty.

No one said anything about what would come next. They all knew, of course.

What would happen next would include trying to convince everyone that Arkadia was behind the attack, most importantly trying to convince the Grounders. Then preparing for war. Clarke kept her head down the entire walk to her room that afternoon. She slept until midnight then found her way to the med room where she toyed around with the supplies. Counting, recounting, organizing, reorganizing the items until she ran out of things to count and organize. A thought hit her then.

She came to the Dropship to work with Bellamy Blake. Not directly, but close enough to be able to keep peace between Arkadia and the Grounders. She had truly believed that Arkadia was holding back, that they were focused on hiding the fact that there were others behind the wall. With that, there was hope. There was room for negotiation. Now, well now one side attacked, one side lied and dropped explosives without a second glance. Clarke’s heart cried out for the innocent Grounder children that were playing a little too closely to the wall, to the people at the market place who probably lost their merchandise, their way of living because of the horrific earthquakes that followed.

There was going to be a battle between two groups of people so misunderstood, so obsessed with all the wrong things.

Clarke wanted to carry on her father’s dream of human beings living and breathing and choosing their lifestyle. The boundaries, the restrictions Chancellor Jaha enforced, although he didn’t write the laws, were to help the human race survive. Those rules may have been necessary fifty years ago when they were needed to buy the ground time to rebuild and regain its power but not anymore. The earth can carry itself now, the citizens, not just of Arkadia, but of this world, don’t need to be chipped, watched, and governed with no sense of self identity or control. 

 _I failed, I failed_ , Clarke thought helplessly, _I might as well just leave now._ She was seriously considering it. She failed. She had no reason to be there anymore. What would she do by staying? Witness all the people she was starting to know, despite her efforts to keep her distance, die in front of her. Or worse, on her operating table. She was seconds away from packing a bag, running away, but that would be giving in to what she always does. She ran away when they sentenced her father to death, she ran away when the council members decided to lie about the Grounders, and running away now from Raven, and Octavia and all the people in Skicru would just prove to them how much of a coward she was, or how much of a fake she actually was.

Besides, Bellamy already thinks she’s a traitor. To run away days after Jaha ruined everything would only add fuel to the fire.

The thoughts of escaping were tucked back, and she denied ever having them. She took to camping out in her room, leaving only to retrieve something she needed or to use the shared bathroom in the skybox. She even shut down medical, telling people that if they have a cold to stay in bed and if they have an injury that they can’t wrap themselves, to come see her in her room. 

Keeping the door open, she was able to hear the conversations happening outside in the hall without having to pry information out of anyone. She learned that Alpha and Beta Squad took to training indoors due to the rainy weather. They sparred, worked on hand combat, took to teaching Gamma Squad how to handle a gun, how to shoot and avoid getting shot at. 

It turns out the Grounders refused to collaborate with Skicru, even after Bellamy, Octavia and Lincoln trekked there, minutes after Chancellor Jaha finished up his bullshit speech on the screen. Lexa ignored their presence at first, but with a few persuasive words and the fact that Skicru had no part in what the council members did, she complied. 

Grounders and guards were to work together, teach each other their skills and methods for battle. Raven and the gang in the engineering room had to work twice as hard since they were a couple members down who transferred to become guards along with anyone else who was of age and willing to fight.

She hadn’t seen much of Octavia, running into her once when she was delivering a stack of notebooks to Raven in engineering on the third floor. Her giddy self was gone. Their conversation on her bed felt like it happened a lifetime ago. There was no mention of Lincoln, or any news on the twelve clans, or even talking back to her brother who refused to let her join Alpha Squad in training when she had asked. Raven mentioned all this when Clarke brought up how Octavia is slowly becoming non-existent. Ironic, considering.

All in all, the shift brought dreariness and the complete loss of hope.

It felt almost like a betrayal to sit there, on the pink plush couch, drawing. But what could Clarke do? She thought too much, trusted that her brain could lead her to all the answers simply because her heart had deceived her time and time again. Except now neither could help her. She was stuck in this conflict, this state of moral versus revenge.

“This is what you spend all your time doing?” an impassive face said with a teasing tone. She peered through her lashes up at him, standing, more like leaning against the door frame with those t-shirts he wears that know to hug all his muscles accurately, giving her a sight that should have been forbidden.

“Well, I was going to go plan a genocide today, but then I thought…no, Clarke, someone’s already taking care of that,” sarcasm dripped bitterly from her lips and he crossed his arms unamused.

“It’s not a genocide, it’s war, that they are willingly participating in,”

“Doesn’t make it any better,”

“It isn’t supposed to. It’s bullets and fighting and death, Princess,” 

“What the hell do you want, Bellamy?” she snapped her sketchbook shut and threw the pencil against the couch cushion. She raised her eyebrow when she saw the corners of his lips curve slightly, threatening to give her his infamous smirk.

“I’m going to be gone a while,”

“Good for you,” she interrupted. She tore her gaze away from him and to his forearms pressed against his hard chest. The vein running along from inner to outer arm demonstrating how he’s all muscle. 

“I want you to come with me,”

Clarke stopped for a second. Tempted to throw the book still in her lap at his face, but she would risk him seeing what was inside, which can never happen. Instead she settled on something else, she parted her lips and a somber giggle swam around the room. She watched as it took him by surprised. A millisecond later, he regained composure as if nothing happened. 

“Funny,” she muttered. Standing tall, she walked to her bed and tucked the sketchbook under her pillow. Aware of his watchful eyes, she continued to move about, getting ready to return to the medical room. 

“I’m serious,”

“I’m sure you are,” she deadpanned, slipping on her boots. When he didn’t say anything else, just stood there like a freaking male model in what she imagined would be a catalogue, not that Arkadia advertised clothing often seeing that only the rich would afford it.

“You’re serious?” she repeated. He didn’t nod yet she saw how serious he was with the way those eyes were looking at her intently, always looking at her that intently, “Why? Three days ago you accused me of sharing exclusive information with my mom and her council friends, you ignored me after you and Octavia took off running to Polis. Not to mention you look for any excuse to remind me that I’m not one of you and that I will never have your trust, so excuse me if I don’t fucking believe that you would do me any favors or that you would think to finally let me in on what goes on in that stupid head of yours,” panting wasn’t the right word to describe what her chest was doing after she ended her rant. It was more like gulping down air. She was glad she got it all out, showed him what a dick he truly was. She was also taken over with brief terror when she realized she not only insulted him but basically told him to shove his offer up his ass.

“You through?”

“Not even close,”

“Well, it’s a long drive. You can continue to yell at me then. Pack a bag for a few days,” he turned to leave, just like that, without explaining where they were going or why they would be gone for more than a day or two.

“Why?” she didn’t have to clarify her question. He knew what she meant, knew she was curious as to what he would possibly need with her presence on this trip of his.

“Because, right now, I don’t want to be around anyone I actually like,”

\---

Raven sat on the edge of Clarke’s bed, a sly sneer suffocating her face.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Clarke was busy hastily folding her clothes and shoving them into her backpack.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you know something that I don’t,” that earned a hard chuckle from Raven who just shrugged, not confirming or denying her suspicions. 

Clarke walked past her to the other side of her bed, dropping to her knees, checking under the bed for her navy blue jacket. She huffed out in frustration coming up short.

Bellamy hadn’t specified when they would be leaving but it had to be soon. Travelling at night at a time like this, where anything can happen and threats were all around, wasn’t safe. 

The infuriating man left the room with only a sentence that shook her entire being. They probably shouldn’t be going away from the Dropship during this time, actually they should probably never go away together at any time for however long, seeing as they would most definitely rip each other to shreds, but, Clarke reasoned, it was either this or cramped up in her room wincing at any mention of Polis or Arkadia. 

“Do you know where were going anyway?” Clarke asked standing up in defeat. As soon as she reached her full height something dark hit her smack in the middle of her face. Cool metal slid across her nose, she blinked once, twice, before realizing it was the jacket she was just searching for. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled failing to hide the pain in her face from such a strong throw. 

“No I have no idea,”

Clarke wasn’t convinced. Bellamy said drive, meaning that they would be taking the rover or some other form of transportation. Raven, the mechanic that she was, knew exactly where each rover was and how much fuel, power, and work needed to be done for the specific trips the vehicle would take. Clarke didn’t press, either way she would find out eventually. 

“I have a feeling I’m not just getting strung along for the hell of it. He needs something from me,”

“I think you’re growing on him,” the nonchalant tone Raven carried didn’t disguise how genuinely she believed her statement. A warm blush threatened Clarke’s cheeks to which she bit her lip forcing the heat to return far away from her face.

“The humour in this place is really spiking up, does war do that to you guys?” 

“I’m sorry I thought you understood what had to happen, Clarke?”  Raven’s confusion rang. 

“Yeah, I get that there needs to be a war. We can’t avoid one if both sides are dead set in their fucked up ways about it, but,” she paused briefly, “Raven you’re honestly telling me that watching the people you all but grew up with the past two years walk into their death is okay with you?” 

“Of course it’s not okay. But what choice do we have? You said so yourself, both sides are dead set in their fucked up ways,” 

“I just…” Clarke took a breath zipping up her pack.

“I know. It’s hard to admit it, no one wants a war Clarke,”

“Bellamy does,”

“No he doesn’t. Maybe this trip will show you that,” there was an underlining promise in her words that Clarke wanted to ignore but couldn’t. She hoped so, hoped that this trip with the eldest Blake would help her understand him better. Either that or Octavia will be only child like the rest of them.

“God, I hope you’re right, Reyes,”

“Always am, Griffin,”

She reached out and pulled the brunette, who decided to let her hair out of its high ponytail today, in a tight hug. They whispered goodbyes in each other’s ears, squeezing each other’s shoulder a little more before pulling a part. 

“Hey, if Wick happens to stop by while I’m gone, stay away from my bed,” Clarke ducked as Raven threw another article of clothing her way. She laughed all the way up the stairs and to the third floor.

Her laughs froze when she ran into Finn, ramming into his shoulder only to spring back and lose her footing.

“Woah, you okay, Princess?” his easy grin didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah, how are you holding up?” she always means to be polite when it comes to Finn. Not just to set the boundaries but because in a twisted way, he deserved it. He had been nothing but kind to her, and while he had his past with Raven it was just that. His past with Raven.

“Fine, I mean what else is there to do but accept it all, right?” he gave her a sheepish look and she returned it.

“Right,” she agreed. They talked quietly for a few more minutes, debating what they thought would happen next with the Grounders, with Lexa and her clans, and even with their respective families who were still behind in Arkadia.

“So it must be true then?”

“What is?”

“That you shut down medical and locked yourself in your room?”

“I did shut down medical yeah, but the door is wide open to my room,”

She registered her words then and shook her head in embarrassment. Finn smirked widely and suggestively. She pushed his right shoulder back gently, fighting back a laugh.

“Shut up, I meant that I didn’t lock myself up,” 

“Yeah I got that,” she shook her head again and figured now would be the best time to head out. 

“Hey do you mind directing me to Bellamy’s room?”

“Why?” Finn raised an eyebrow with a skeptical expression across his face.

“We’re heading out somewhere,” she said unsure of how to explain this since she really didn’t know where they were going or why, “I’m supposed to meet with him but he never said where so I assumed it would be at his room,” 

“Walk straight ahead and take a right,” he gestured with his pointer finger, she began to head in that direction “and Clarke,” he called after her, stopping her in place, “Be careful,”

She didn’t respond. Just gave him a tight lip smile and walked ahead counting the steps as she took them. 

Suddenly she found herself outside the door she was at a month and a half ago. Time flew by quick, yet with all their encounters, and all the shit they’ve dealt with since, she still had butterflies knocking in her stomach like it was the first time she entered these walls.

She knocked, only once, and the door opened wide.

“Yes?” a girl with dark hair pinned up and out of her beautiful face said with an edge.

“Uh, is Bellamy?” Clarke couldn’t form a proper sentence, her gaze shifting over the girl’s shoulder to see Bellamy standing at the edge of his bed, shirtless.

“Who are you?” the girl scowled sending her death glares.

“I’ll be waiting outside,” Clarke chanced another glance at him to find his eyes on her already, still without a shirt on.

He spoke crisp and clear, “Get out Roma. Tell Miller to continue with the plan discussed until I get back,”

The girl, Roma, rolled her eyes at Clarke. She held a familiarity that Clarke couldn’t quite place, until she really looked at her, recognizing her as the silhouette that was in the background of Bellamy’s room on that second night she was at the Dropship.

Roma brushed past her but not before giving Bellamy her best bedroom eyes and an unspoken assurance to continue what Clarke had clearly interrupted. Bellamy for his part remained as emotionless and stone cold as he always was.

“I can wait outside,” Clarke clarified for him, turning on the spot.

“It’s fine, come in. Shut the door,” he ordered in his alpha male tone. She complied after internally debating with herself how bad of an idea this was.

Slowly, she walked closer into the room. It smelt of cigarette smoke, and mahogany wood, and Bellamy. The walls were bare. There was nothing but a bed in the middle of the room and a few cardboard boxes in a corner filled with what looked to be clothes and a few books. She carefully stepped closer until she was inches away from his bed, which she forced her blue eyes to look away from. A shine against the light sparkled and when she peered over, in between the sheets, at the object she found it to be a glossy book cover.

“The Odyssey?”

He was at the other side of the bed facing the window leading out to a balcony. Peaking over his clothed shoulder at her, having finally put on a shirt, he gave her his most confusing look yet. She couldn’t decipher it, not completely anyway. It was a mix of wonder and something else, something that tickled the parts of her no one knew about.

“I was thinking we’d leave later in the day, when the rain stops but since you’re here, might as well,” he ignored her previous statement, picking up his own bag that was hidden in the corner by the boxes.

“Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said lamely, referring to the leggy Roma with the horny hooded eyes.

“You didn’t,” his shirt stretched across his broad back emphasizing the outline of his scapula, emphasizing how his body was toned, all muscle and strength. She flicked her gaze back to the book calming her mind that ran without her approval.

“You said we were driving?” he merely nodded and walked ahead of her, guiding them downstairs. 

Holding her breath, Clarke followed, with thoughts of how stupid this is, was and will no doubt, be.

 

 

An hour and a half later and they were on the road.

Jasper and Monty had met them in the garage. Standing in that cold room, Clarke was reminded of her first day there all over again. They spoke with Bellamy about the engine, the path to take and how they didn’t have much time, for what, Clarke had no clue.

She bit her tongue, nodding along completely unaware of what they were saying but knowing that she will ultimately find out since she was going on this trip.

Bellamy left with specific orders for everyone he worked closely with. Miller was to take Bellamy’s place for the time being. Harper was to overlook training. The tech group and Monty knew what to focus on in terms of spying on Arkadia. Jasper had his orders to continue warfare production. Octavia, was the only person he failed to address. He gave a deliberate nod to Monty who apparently understood it’s meaning.

She hopped into the rover the second they were ready to go. She didn’t miss the way Jasper hugged Bellamy before he left. Dragging a tiny grin from Clarke who sobered up when Bellamy came closer.

On the road, the sky above her was clearing up. Clouds decorated across the horizon, not as dark as they had previously been. The rover moved smoothly against the paved road until it ended, then moving a bit rougher against the dirt and green grass. They were taking a route that Clarke was nowhere near familiar with. She knew that the forest cut about five miles south of where they were going because that was where the train’s final stop was. She knew that the farmhouse that burnt to the ground and the quiet lake near it were now so far behind them it that what happened there felt like a distant memory. Except that it wasn’t. Clarke thought about Atom and what reminiscences he brought to the surface of her mind, often. There really was no escaping, even for a pro runaway like herself.

While she paid sever attention to their surroundings, working out where they were going, she was mostly hoping that the awkward tension that hung in the air around her and the brooding driver would phase out. Awkwardness between her and Bellamy was a foreign state of mind because every time they were in the same room together it was like throwing metaphorical daggers with an angry stiffness in the air. Now, with his hand in between them resting on the console and her forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window, she felt relatively exposed. There was no heat, or fury or cruel words to cut her down a size or to throw back at him.

“You stare any harder at the glass, you’ll break it,” she parted her lips, heart hammering in her chest as she realized she basically was burning a hole with her blue eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” she spoke out instead of acknowledging his weak attempt at diffusing the weird space between them.

“You’re going to ask either way,” he huffed, eyes fixed ahead of him.

“Why did you easily let, practically all of Skicru, escape to the bunker? You were so set in keeping everyone inside, locking the door and shoving the idea that they were much safer in their rooms down their throats, yet you let them go, why?”

“I saw the look in their eyes, they were scared and they trusted you and Spacewalker more,”

There was no sadness in his tone but she sensed his indifference. He spent the majority of his adult life taking care of these people, letting them stay, welcoming them and introducing the Dropship as what was meant to be a safe haven.

“They trust you, you know?” she meant for her words to come out casually but she held real genuine meaning as she spoke.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and scoffed, “They lined up ready to go the minute you stood up, they trust and listen to you more,” she went to argue when he continued, eyes returning to the path ahead, “Don’t deny it, Princess. Monty worships the ground you walk on, Octavia wouldn’t shut up about you when I haven’t been able to get a word out of her in months, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Miller blush so hard at being called Nathan, let alone the bastard letting anyone call him by his first name,” 

Clarke paused unaware of the impression she made. What surprised her wasn’t really the information he gave but the tone he took when he was explaining this to her. It wasn’t in envy, he didn’t spit the words out at her, if anything he seemed slightly grateful. She tried to shake it off but couldn’t, so she let it settle into the depths of her. Ignoring the pleading reminder of the reel that played in her head of all the harsh words exchanged between the two of them in this short time they’ve known each other.

“Yeah, well, I gave them an easy choice. I encouraged them to run away. You teach them to fight for themselves, and seconds before I said anything they were willing to do anything you would have told them to. That includes standing their ground and fighting for their home,”

The silence came back only this time it wasn’t as awkward as it had been, still awkward, just not as much. She could tell he was letting her words sink in. She also knew that he probably already knew all of this and maybe her words didn’t have the affect she wanted them to. He wouldn’t look at her after that. He clearly suffered, or had gone through something traumatically because that look, that look was one that Clarke knew all too well. 

She turned her stare to the sky above, again. It was really starting to clear up now and she smiled, not caring that the person she swore she hated days ago was in the next seat. Since the nuclear war, the earth was never the same as it had once been. Above, where a light blue would have reflected off the great oceans was now a more indigo blue. Even against the bright sun that blazed down ten times brighter than it had once been, there was a shield of darkness, like a blanket, wrapped around earth.

“Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds,” a swoosh sound of his jacket indicated that Clarke now had brown eyes glued to her. She peaked at him, sighing, “It’s Oppenheimer, he’s the man who—”

“I know who Oppenheimer is,” his tone was laced with amusement all the while giving her a tease of what she thought could be a smile. The corners of his lips perking up just enough to show the edge of his teeth, then going back to their drawn out line.

“I wonder if he knew what the fuck he was doing when he decided to create such a weapon,”

“Probably not,”

“How do you know?”

“Who would go ahead and create an atomic bomb if he knew that one day it would eliminate the human race?”

She smirked then, “You’d be surprised what people would do, no matter how terrible the consequences are,”

“I have a better idea than you could ever imagine, Princess. If you only knew, you’d think surprised is far from what I’d be,”

She was tempted to ask. Shaking her head within, and deciding against it, she shuffled to the brink of her seat fiddling with the stereo nob.

“Doesn’t work,” 

“Hard to believe Raven wouldn’t install some next level sound system in here,”

She tried again, ignoring the roll of his eyes at her compulsive behaviour. Turning the nob back and forth several times with no response, she huffed giving up and sitting back in her seat. It took him only a moment before reluctantly trying his luck at the stereo. Of course the minute he touches it the music starts filling up the car. A triumph smirk greets her when she glares at him, she can’t deny how well it suits him though. He flipped through the selection of songs already encoded on there.

“Stop,” she told him when a familiar melody reached her ears. She smiled brightly not able to contain her excitement, “I used to listen to this one all the time, it’s crazy old. They found it years ago in between a bunch of stuff savaged from the wreckage,”

The lyrics started pouring out of the speakers.

_You got a fast car_

_Is it fast enough so we can fly away?_  
_We gotta make a decision_  
_We leave tonight or live and die this way_  
  
She bit her lip as goosebumps covered her arms even though her jacket was zipped up to the top. The next part tugged at her heart strings, she stared out at the open road, the open sky, the open world around them.

 _So I remember we were driving, driving in your car_  
_The speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk_  
_City lights lay out before us_  
_And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulde_ r

She hummed along to the song, allowing its form of escapism to take her. It did touch her heart a little more than she’d like but there was something about it. Music was able to bring back emotions, take you to a time when the same song was playing and you felt something entirely different.

The first time she heard it was on the local, and only, radio station that began to play a collection of songs that were found in various depots around Arkadia. Her father grabbed her hand and pulled her off their couch. They danced to it all night long, fumbling over the words, laughing when they missed steps in the made up dance they were trying to perfect. 

Watery eyes and the fear of having tears leak, she leaned over, about to shut it off but her hand was held back by a warmer one. He didn’t look at her, the instant their fingers made contact he retracted, “Leave it,” he said softly.

Clarke didn’t even know that he did anything softly.

The song kept playing, then replaying and replaying until she remembered all the words. She sang along under her breath, noticing the way Bellamy didn’t condone her rather, he turned the music down a bit to hear her clearly.

_I, I, had a feeling that I belonged,_

_I, I had a feeling that I could be someone_

As soon as the words left her lips she glimpsed at him. He was already watching her, the way her lips curled over the words, the way her eyes held more than she was letting anyone in on. The way a tiny hue of pinkish blush now covered her neck too.

“You want to belong?” he asked her, voice gruff like he had just woken up or spent hours screaming off a tall mountain somewhere.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Do you?”

“I thought so, yeah. I’m not sure anymore, if this the world I’m living in, I don’t want to belong,” she admitted. Her eyes glazed over, she focused ahead of them. Watching the trees swoosh by, the speed they were travelling at was intoxicating.

If only they could fly away.

“The twelve clans are getting ready for war. They all agreed to the alliance but we’re not enough to overthrow Jaha and those in Arkadia who agree with him. His foolish attack only caused anger to rise,” he cut in. She was thankful for it.

“Okay, so what’s the plan now? Do you have any leads from inside Arkadia?” before he could answer her she raised an eyebrow, “Wait, how come none of your inside people warned you about the bombs?”

“Jaha knew he was being watched, switched out all codes and servers. Raven’s been hunched over the computer figuring them out with Sinclair the past two days,” he explained, using one hand to steer the wheel to the right. They were between the trees now, swerving and dodging any that loomed over them, “The plan now,” he went back to her previous question, “Is to get some people to cooperate and then work on battle plans,” he concluded. With his free hand he ran it over his jaw rubbing at the tiny bit of stubble growing.

“You once told me that war wasn’t something you actually wanted, that you tried everything to avoid it, why is that hard to believe?” she eyed him, really taking him in. She had done this before but each time she witnessed him in a way that yanked on this confusing part of her. The part that was creating excuses, reasons to believe him and agree with him, despite the horrible things he’s done that she actually knows nothing about.

“Not sure,” he shrugged, “you don’t seem like the trusting type,”

“Takes one to know one,” he smirked at that, and she kicked herself mentally for having a small sense of pride for being the one to amuse him. It was better when she was doing it knowingly rather than when she was being serious and he was ridiculing her.

“Will you tell me something?” he fixed her with the stare that she now knew was reserved just for her.

“Only if you tell me something,” she offered rising up in her seat, challenging him.

“Fine,” he licked his bottom lip. Clarke thanked the seat belt pressing uncomfortably against her chest, “Why did you really come to the Dropship?”

“I told you,” she was interrupted by a click of the tongue.

“Cut the bullshit, Griffin, tell me the truth,”

She debated it. She hated herself for it but she debated telling him the truth. He didn’t deserve to know, not with the way he treated her. Listening to a song in the car, driving around like she assumed a normal couple would do if the world was functioning semi-normally, wouldn’t be enough to make her forget all about her insecurities or the way he managed to tangle himself in her thoughts constantly when all she wanted was to do her job and get out. But, how could she expect to get answers from him if she isn’t giving up some answers herself.

“I did come to help you. I didn’t agree with the council and the way they were denying that the Grounders existed, the way they were going to kill those kids back at the Dropship for mistakes people before them made,” his eyes were ahead but his ears were tuned in to her, “But, the other reason is that I’ve done…” she trailed off, catching her breath, “I’ve done something, that I can never go back from. I needed to get away to forget it. I needed to leave so that I can try to make it right. This is the only way I know how,”

It was cryptic her response, but this was all she could give him. He wordlessly accepted it, fingers twisting the dial so that the music faded out but not completely.

“Your turn,” he gestured with a bob of the chin, the dimple catching her attention.

“You came to the Dropship when you were what nineteen?”

“Twenty,” he corrected, “Is that what you wanted to know?”

“No, I just meant that you got there when you were much older than the rest of them, why didn’t you take Octavia and run? Why stay?”

“Octavia wasn’t there at the time,” he enlightened her, “After I got here I was ready to leave, but I had to save my sister first. It was my fault she was taken to begin with,” he didn’t tell her how but she wasn’t about to interrupt him when she wasn’t even sure if this was a dream or reality. He was finally conversing with her.

“Marcus, he helped me get her out of there, but only after I agreed to help him run the place. I didn’t fucking get it, there were people here who knew better, worked alongside him longer, but he chose me,” he didn’t sound thankful. The cockiness she knew he had in him was non-existent, “I obviously did, then we managed to get O out,”

“Then he left you?” she looked down at her hands that were folded in her lap. Marcus Kane needed someone to take over and he chose a twenty-year-old who was basically on the verge of committing any crime to retrieve his only relative left. It didn’t make much sense.

“Yeah,”

“Okay so then why not take everyone and go? You guys are able to leave and enter Arkadia, why not go beyond the wall and live happily ever after? I doubt you give a shit about what happens to the people of Arkadia. They are contentedly living their ignorant lives,”

“What about the ones that are just as troubled as the rest of us? I leave them behind?”

“Wasn’t going to stop you before? You asked me to cut the bullshit, now it’s your turn, what’s the real reason? What held you back from packing up and telling Jaha to fuck off?”

“You asked me to tell you something, not everything. You got your answer, Princess.”

“No I didn’t, jackass,” she pushed back.

It may have been the wrong move, or it may have been the right one, she wouldn’t be able to tell you, not even moments later when the conversation took a turn for the worst. He set his jaw, the line running from the bottom of his ear to his chin defined and well carved.

“Must be a privileged thing, always getting what you want? Expecting people to just hand over their entire soul to you,”

“You know nothing,” she spat out at him. It was getting rather tiring having a status she never asked for thrown in her face when she was at the same place he was, ended up with the same doubts and fears that she knows he and every one of Skicru has as well.

He gave a humourless chuckle that clenched around her heart causing whatever niceness that settled between them to evaporate into the roof of the rover.

“No, I know enough. Enough to see that you’re as deluded as they come,”

It was like smoke was coming out of her ears, her nostrils, her entire being was livid. One day he will learn not to underestimate her. One day, she hopes, he will learn the truth. That someone would tell him what it was she really knows so that he would feel like the idiot he was for assuming such lowly things of her.

She inhaled deeply, grimacing, while her eyes were fixated on him.

“And what is it that you know? What has the big bad Bellamy Blake gone through that fucked him up so bad?” she teased but she knew he caught on to her serious interest.

He went rigid, a part of her felt guilty but a bigger part told her that if she was as smart as she thought she was, she would indulge in this and get her answers. They were stuck in a moving vehicle together, the worst that could happen is he’d throw her out but with the way her thoughts were going before they left, it probably would be more of a favour than a punishment.

“Let me guess, it was so hard having such power and leading a group of reckless and rebellious teens? No? Okay, then it must have been hard having a sibling, you know, someone who would always be there and share a familial bond while all of us have no one left? No… Oh I know,” the mockery was another level, Clarke didn’t even know she had it in her. This is the only way, she repeated to herself, “You got your heart broken didn’t you? She left your ass and left behind a cynical, stone cold body in her wake?”

The car braked hard. Clarke put her hands out in front of her against the dash, stopping herself from flying through the windshield.

“Shut the fuck up,” he seethed, hand white clutching the steering wheel. She smirked to herself, no chance Blake.

“Oh so you can shove me in the corner, threaten me, accuse me of shit I would never do but I mention some bitch who left you and—” 

He opened the car door and slammed it shut behind him.

The heat, the air, the whole atmosphere was slowly coming down. She fucked up, but he fucked up first. He looked for any reason to fight with her. She was smart enough to know why, because she does it too. It’s protectiveness, it’s to keep those who want to get close remote and away. But she’s also dumb enough to ignore it and use it against him.

_I, I had a feeling that I belong,_

The words echoed around her. Music had a gift for bringing back emotions and feelings. Right now, she didn’t want to remember any part of this.

\---

They were back on the road a couple minutes later. Bellamy hopped back in, detached going back to his hostile self. There was no music playing, no easy conversation, even the air wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable.

It was just quiet. Not the kind that Clarke could find herself settling into with someone else, just listening to each other’s breathing, but close enough. Guilt ate at her, but she hoped it ate at him too.

Her attention was given to their surroundings. They were still steering through the woods, dirt and rubble underneath the tires. She figured that it must be safer this way, but the problem was that Jaha had eyes everywhere.

Arkadia wasn’t that big of a country, more like a large city. Once the walls were put up around it, it became smaller than it had already been. Covered in forest and wildlife, they had everything they needed, or thought they needed inside their little safe prison. The speed the rover was going at had increased incredibly. Probably due to the driver’s resentful hold on her. She was tempted to part her lips, to speak, even force out an apology but it wouldn’t change the facts.

Bellamy still didn’t trust her. She had a feeling he brought her along because she served some sort of purpose to this trip of his. If not that, then he wanted to keep an eye on her so she wouldn’t run around calling out for peace from both the Grounders in Polis or her mom and the council. Either way, she was regretting her decision. Not just coming on this trip, but refusing her instincts to run when she had the chance.

There was a hill up ahead, she braced her hands on the side of her seat awaiting the rise and fall of the vehicle only it didn’t arrive. She watched, wide-eyed, as Bellamy pressed his foot down on the gas hard, they zoomed by. She silently prayed he’d turn, avoid the hill all together but what he did next caused a small squeal to irritate her throat. He shifted gears, swerving to the left, almost dead into a tree, before the rover dipped down. The drop was felt in Clarke’s lower stomach, a hand clutched her heart. From the corner of her eye she caught sight of his maddening smirk. 

She was a hundred percent sure that he could have gone easy. He didn’t need to speed to get into that dip in the ground that led them further into a dark hole. She glared at the side of his head, not caring that he couldn’t see it.

“Was that necessary?”

“No,” he admitted with a shrug. She rolled her eyes that were now adjusting to the darkness around them. He turned on the taillights and the roof lights. The coolness of the tunnel was seeping into the car. They continued down the path for another half hour before coming back up into the daylight.

When they reappeared, they welcomed the sight of more trees but they were different than the ones she was used to. She turned to look over her shoulder to find that they were no longer on Arkadian ground but are actually behind the wall, way past it that she couldn’t make out where it was. The car came to a stop, jerking her and her gaze ahead.

“Where are we?” she asked, unbuckling her seatbelt and following his lead.

“There’s another person who can help us defeat Jaha. She’s a little more persistent, believes that this fight isn’t hers, so she’s refusing to help,” he informed her, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

“And we’re here to convince her otherwise,” she finished off for him.

He shut his door and walked to the front of the rover waiting for her, “Not quite, there’s more to it, you’ll see when you get there but that’s the idea,” he surveyed their surroundings, “We continue on foot,” and then began to walk ahead.

Clarke managed to stay in step with him, despite his long strides. The movement from the trees, which weren’t as broad and glow-green as the ones back in the forest by the Dropship, were the only sounds heard. There weren’t any animals in sight, or noises of any animals either. As they trekked further into the jungle, the sound of rushing water echoed. A cooler breeze, salty and thick, fluttered its way through her hair, her exposed neck, nipping at her cheeks.

Bellamy sped ahead, and she jogged behind him.

A soft orange light shinned against them when they arrived at a clearing to a blanket of white sand. Her breath hitched, there was an ocean. An indigo blue, wide and far as the eye can see, ocean. The smell of fish and salt and sand and water filled her nostrils. What made her fingers ache, her heart hammer louder in her chest, was the fact that there was a sunset. The orange, pink and soft yellow tones decorating the sky and the water below it.

If this was another time, if she was here for another reason, she would have run around soaked it all up. She disregarded the wandering eyes on her from the man who knew exactly what buttons to push. She disregarded the heat on the apples of her cheeks and stared at the openness in front of her.

So encompassed by the earth at that moment, she realized her previous statement was true. Everyone wanted to belong, and if she could, she’d belong to the sunset across the sea.

“There,” Bellamy pointed ahead snapping her out of her trance. Following his finger to see that he was referring to the large black block to the far side of the beach, in the middle of the water. It was held up by what looked to be sturdy black poles all the way around it.

“What is it?”

“It’s where Luna is, the leader of the thirteenth clan,”

“I thought there were only twelve?” confusion taking over.

“After she left, there were only twelve,” he didn’t expand on this because a large man was walking over to them. Dressed mostly like a Grounder, he had certain pieces that told her he was not the average Polis member she saw during Grationem Dan. Clarke tightened her hold on her backpack, whole body alert.

“It’s okay,” Bellamy’s voice, a whisper, breathed out. She flickered her gaze to him to see that he held something in those eyes of his. Eyes that made her want to forget where they were and why they were even here. Brushing it off, she nodded, and together they walked closer to the hooded figure. 

“She’s expecting you,” the thunder like voice said once they were close enough.

“We won’t be long,” Bellamy reassured. The man grinned like that was the funniest thing he ever heard.

“I know,” was all he said, then gestured to a canoe. The three of them were on their way to the platform up ahead. The water underneath the small boat felt different. It swayed gently, even when they were propelling the canoe forward. Clarke not able to resist it any more dipped the tops of her fingers in. The salt water sweeping over her nails, her knuckles, feeling so different. It was much warmer than she expected it to be, sliding up and down as the waves came in.

The water supply in Arkadia came from local rivers and lakes like the one hidden near the Dropship. They used pipes and extensions to get the water filtered and into homes. After a hundred years, water was easily accessible to those from the upper class, while the ones from the lower class had to visit a well. The worst part was that, Chancellors before Jaha had the power and the resources to get clean water into homes for those of all classes, yet they never did it. It was a game. It all was a fucking game.

You keep the poor desperate so that they never rebel, so that they stay in their place because they believe that they aren’t enough, will never be enough or worth it. What’s a voice of a poor girl or boy with nothing but the clothes on their back?

Clarke was blessed. She grew up in a neighbourhood, an actual neighbourhood where there were parks and houses. She went to a proper school in a building where others from her neighbourhood gathered together. She never missed out on anything, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal. Here it was, all this water that Arkadia gladly dismissed. Leaving their civilians waiting for it to rain in order to quench their thirst.

The canoe was being lifted into the air. Clarke shuffled back caught up in her own thoughts, she noticed the long wires hooked to both ends of the boat. They hovered above the water, awaiting the group of three young men who pulled them to land on the platform. Once it was safe to exit, she stepped off and followed the backs of the men in front of her to the large, garage like door, already open.

A woman with light brown hair in messy curls met them with a hard glare. She had only one man standing beside her with a stance that told them he was ready to attack if they so much as took a step. 

Bellamy went to address her when she held up a hand.

“Come in, we’ll discuss this later,”

Clarke confused as she ever was, looked behind her to find that they had an audience. The two large doors were open, giving the people sitting around enjoying their evening a view of the sunset. The place looked like it was one giant rig, Clarke wondered how many people resided here.

When she returned her gaze to the woman who must be Luna, she found that while Luna promised they would discuss ‘this’ later, she carried a look in her eye that reminded her of spiked armor, bullets, and nuclear bombs.

“Fine,” Bellamy muttered, eyeing Luna and the people around them. The difference between them and the people of Polis was clear. They didn’t harbour the same indifference to everything, or a hatred strong and see-through. They were more laid back, chatting away, some even laughed lowly not intimidated by their presence. There was a light heartedness in the air and it all fell into place for Clarke. 

She was led farther into the rig with Bellamy in tow. The man from the boat was left behind, their guides now Luna and the man who held his palm against the base of her spine, the other at his side in a fist.

“They’re so far away from everything, from everyone,” she leaned up to speak in a whisper at Bellamy’s ear only to have her forehead slam his chin as he bent down to hear her clearly. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, rubbing at his chin. She grimaced, rubbing her forehead. 

“Sorry,” cerulean eyes apologetic. His mouth did that thing where it gave this pulse like he wanted to smile but quickly thought against it.

“What were you saying?” he prodded, amusement still evident in him.

“I get why she thinks this isn’t her fight. If you lived far away, with nothing and no one to hold you back, with everyone you care about in one place, happy, would you give it up for a war? For people who may not deserve it?”

The change that flashed in his brown orbs made her miss her footing and tumble over. His large hand gripped her upper arm hauling her back in place. They were close now, really close. Her forehead a sliver away from his chin, she was cautious not to bump it again. The way he was viewing her, it wasn’t like any of the other times. His intent glances, stares, and glimpses didn’t compare to the way he was seeing her, really seeing her, now.

It was like what happened in the car escaped their minds. Realizing this, she pulled away, standing on her own and creating distance between them. A clear of the throat broke the trance even further. Luna with her creamy face soft, and eloquent, beaconed them over.

“It’s safe to speak here. I do not want my people to feel threatened or worried over an issue that is not their responsibility,” she had a calming voice, if it wasn’t laced with anger. 

“Your people came from Polis at one point, it is their responsibility to a degree,” Bellamy argued anger laced in him as well.

“I see a war is what it has come to,” Luna sighed, “I left Lexa and her power for a reason, when she contacted me I told her the same thing I did all those years ago, blood must not have blood. I will not take part in a fight that I do not believe in,”

“What’s to come, doesn’t only affect us. If they win, then they will wipe out every last Grounder. They will come for you,” Bellamy emphasized stepping forward. The man at Luna’s side mimicked him. They were staring each other down now.

Clarke had remained silent, understanding exactly why Luna was reluctant but also needing her to understand that Bellamy had a point. If Jaha wins, he will eliminate all Grounders, those who didn’t already die in battle, then whatever was left of Skicru. He will send guards to patrol the area around Arkadia, outside the wall, to take down anybody else he sees fit.

“Luna,” Clarke’s voice broke the stare down, both men snapping their heads to her. Luna gave her a brief once over, not interested, “Do you have a place for us to stay the night? It’s late, and we won’t get anywhere right now. We can talk more tomorrow,” 

Bellamy’s shock morphed into frustration, he kept his mouth closed though. Luna was analyzing her. Clarke could see puzzlement but also genuine interest in the way Luna was considering her request. At least she wasn’t being dismissive Clarke revelled.

“Yes, I will call Cato to take you to a spare room,” Luna’s hair moved with her as she departed with what Clarke assumed now as her boyfriend, leaving her and Bellamy all alone.

“You out of your mind? We have to get her to understand what’s at stake,” he seethed in a hushed tone.

“It’s late Bellamy. She’s pissed we’re here, pissed that people saw us. She wasn’t going to talk to us properly, not in the way we wanted her to,” she shifted her backpack on her back, the weight finally hitting her, “We’ll try again tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after if we have to, okay?” she reasoned. He stepped closer to her, she fought back a flinch, instead taking a step behind her.

He proceeded his advance, bent his head down until there was an inch between their noses. His fingers meeting hers around the straps of her backpack. The rough callouses of his fingertips lifted each one of her fingers gently from her hold on the black bag. She let him, not knowing what he was doing. She tried not to notice the difference in their hand size. How his enclosed on her whole fist, his fingers slender and long and warm against her own short nimble ones.

After peeling her hand off the shoulder strap, he took hold of the backpack and pulled it down her back.

“What are you doing?” breathing out hastily, the betrayal that is her voice said to him. He didn’t answer, just took her bag and swung it over his left shoulder, putting it over the bag already placed on his back.

“Let’s go,” he moved ahead of her. She swallowed hard and was so thankful he couldn’t see how she was shakily struggling to follow.

\---

_Fire. It surrounded her, bit at her clothes, her outstretched hand, her blonde hair loose in wavy curls around her shoulders. It burned._

_It was suffocating, the smoke blackening her lungs, the hot thick air eating away at the atmosphere around her. She was claustrophobic, squinting, gasping to get a hold of fresh cool air. Wanting that relief but knowing that she won’t get it._

_The fire grew, if possible, burning the room down. On one side of the room was Atom, body blistering, wicked grin aiming right at her. He took measured steps in her direction. A gasp left her lips as she realized what was in his hand. A knife, the same knife he tried to use on Octavia, on her, the same one she used when she ripped at his neck, ending his pain._

_She turned on the spot, but when she tried to run her feet wouldn’t let her. On the other side of the room she saw her mother. Thelonious Jaha and Commander Shumway at either side of her._

_“Mom?” she called out pushing to move her feet that were glued to the ground._

_“Look what you did Clarke,” her mother’s bitterness snapped the room in half. The ground split open, fire erupting from the crack. Abby screamed, piercingly loud, gripping her abdomen that was now soaked in red blood, rushing out of her. Specks of blood landed on Jaha who smirked, and Shumway who sniggered holding a gun, pointing it at her head._

_It was Clarke’s turn to scream, finally she pried her feet free, backing away from them. Turning towards the fire, she noticed that she couldn’t escape. The flames lapped around her, Atom was on one side, her mother on the other, and the smoke blocking her vision suddenly._

_A figure was coming towards her, he was tall and distinctly familiar. She felt a hole in her stomach, a sharp pain twisting at her intestines as she noticed who it was. Covered in blood, a sad smile on his face, he peered down at her, holding out his hand. She reached for it but then the ground opened up underneath him and swallowed him whole._

_She sank on her knees, crying out, screaming louder and louder until the dancing fire consumed her too. Until she felt warmness, not burning pain, cup her chin, swipe against her cheeks and grasp her body._

“Griffin,” she could hear Bellamy shouting against the side of her face. It was his hand cupping her chin, his thumb swiping at her cheeks, at the tears that fell while she trembled against the makeshift bed on the floor, “Hey,” he called to her.

Blue eyes greeted his brown ones and if she wasn’t in a haze she’d think they actually looked worried. Her lips quivered as she recalled her nightmare, tears continued to stream down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, to lie, to say she was fine but the scratchiness she felt tickling her throat indicated that she had been screaming out loud. She took in the space around her, remembering where she was, trying to focus on that, however the nightmare was embedded in her bones.

She shook uncontrollably against him, who still cradle her head, her body so delicately against his own. She felt embarrassed and ashamed. Fighting it though was not an option. She couldn’t fight this.

“It’s okay,” he whispered his breath hitting her ear. She shook her head swiftly, her hair hitting her face, clinging onto her wet cheeks.

“No, it’s not. The things I-I’ve done,” she hiccupped, struggling to regulate her panting, “I’ve d-done,” she hiccupped, “things, and n-nothing will ever be okay,” 

He was in her face at that moment. All around her was him, Bellamy, intoxicating the space, the air, the feeling around her. He tilted her chin so she was looking directly at him, wiping his thumb across her left cheek then her jawline where the tears trailed off dripping down to her shirt.

“We’ve all done things, we all have our demons and our battle scars,” his voice stilled her, “We fuck up, we regret, we mourn, and we learn to live with what we’ve done. You’re right, you’re not okay. But you will be,” he continued to wipe at the tears that escaped, his voice getting lower and lower, meeting her ears only in their small room all alone.

“Y-you’ve done things?” she hiccupped again, brushing her hair out of the way. 

“Yes. I live with that fact every day. It gets easier after a while, and it gets harder on really bad days. But,” he paused looking down at his lap, at the lack of space between them, “that’s life.” 

She peaked down at her lap as well, gathering that she was practically sitting in his. His protective arms around her, the gentle way he caressed her tears away, her spine, her shoulders as she shook before him. She wondered how often she’d wished for someone to be there, to hold her like this when she was having such vivid, awful dreams. 

Like a lightning strike, she realized why she never had someone there. She pulled back slowly, a foot of space between them. Gradually, she was settling into the silence and the aftermath of her horrible dream. He stayed within arm’s reach, a pillar of strength compared to her weak being. A few moments later, she regained her inhales and exhales, breathing deeply, deliberately, properly again. A wave of humiliation hit her. Bellamy had seen her in her frailest form, after a dream she hadn’t had in weeks.

She peered over at him from under her lashes to find that for once he wasn’t looking at her but at the far side of the room, he seemed to be deep in thought. His jacket was off to the side; he was in one of his t-shirts that should have never been sold to him because no one should ever be allowed to look like that in them. His expression was soft, for the first time ever. The tick in his jaw absent, the furrow of the brows, the wrinkle in the forehead, all gone.

She was seeing him as he truly was.

A guy, a young adult, who’s had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders not once, but twice. His younger sister was his sole focus, sacrificing and caring for her in ways Clarke didn’t even know about. There also were the ones on the Dropship who had no real home but he gave them one. A responsibility thrusts upon him, one he took without a second glance. This rebellious man, in spite of the things he’s done, is just as torn and brutally beaten as she was, if not more.

 _I can’t,_ Clarke thought. She couldn’t think more about him, not in this way. It wouldn’t be fair to him or her. They argued, called each other out and shoved through each other acting like they don’t have a conscious when their fights got heated. But…but she couldn’t shake the knowledge that he was someone real and honest, who had a heart buried deep down. A heart that he only ever let her see. The way he fixed up the med room a day after she asked even though he gave her hell before it, the way she found the auburn seaweed waiting for her the morning after Atom’s death, his considerate behaviour that’s hidden beneath seething words.

Still, Clarke had to make sure she was on that straight line she created for herself.

Earlier in the night, they were shown to their room by Cato, who was the same man who greeted them on the beach, who operated the canoe. He led them through the wide rig, turning what felt like fifty different times before opening a door for them to settle in.

It was a small room, and only one for them to share. It was obvious that asking for another one would be met with a loud erupting chuckle and a firm no. There was a makeshift bed on the floor, in the corner of the room. A few chairs, a few blankets, some supplies crowded around them. It was all in all a storage room. Clarke wanted to scoff at the hospitality they received. Luna wasn’t happy with them. She wasn’t thrilled with Clarke’s dismissal of the conversation for a later time. Neither was Bellamy.

He left her to settle in, to call it a night while he went off doing God knows what. He didn’t so much as look at her after setting both their bags down, striding away, shutting the door with a secure click after him.

“O, was thirteen when I rescued her from the lock up at Ark Prison. She was in a separate room, all by herself. A part of me was glad for it, no one would bother her but another part was…pissed off. She had been alone her whole life, from birth. Now with the worse that could happen, she was still alone, I wasn’t there for her and it was all my fault she was there to begin with,” a crack in his voice hit her hard, she was focused on him, and now, he was focused on her. 

“To have all that responsibility must have been hard,”

“With O, I never felt that way,” he ran his fingers through his hair, the fringe that was sticking to his forehead from the sweat in the small hot room was slicked back slightly.

“What happened?”

He didn’t respond. He looked beautifully torn, even in the dim light with only their flashlights and some battery operated lamp flickering in the corner.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to,” Clarke tried to assure him but he shook his head.

“Some things are better left in the past, better left for only one mind to burden,”

“You can’t possibly believe that,”

A voice in her mind sneered, _hypocrite_ at the words that just flew out of her mouth. His contemptuous smile revealed that he must have heard the same voice. 

“I know,” she responded to his unsaid words in defeat, “but maybe, maybe telling someone would make it better,” she reasoned.

“I wish it would,” his lips, red and bow shaped, were pressed in a deep line.

He was right.

In all the times she had wished someone was there to listen, she knew that she would have never been able to confess to her sins, to the deeds that now defined her. He had no clue what she had done. If she did tell him would he look at her differently, would he think less of her than he already did? She was sure he had the same thoughts running around in his head.

She respected him, something she never thought she would be able to feel in her entire life, but she did. She respected the kind of person he was, the kind of man who would selflessly care like that despite his attempt at playing the cold, distant soul in front of them.

“Your sister, your responsibility,” she murmured, reminded of the day she first heard him say that.

“My sister, my responsibility,” he repeated in the same softness.

“We’ve all done things,” she gently teased, although her face was still sullen and body just starting to calm down from its jitters.

“That’s only one of the many things,” he was doing it again, trying to scare her away.

 _If only you knew,_ she thought.

“Let’s make a deal,” she adjusted her position, tucking her feet under her, knees pressed onto the warm blankets beneath her. He turned to face her, resting his elbows on his knees, legs bent in front of him.

“A deal?”

“You claim to know me, so then you know that I’m here for the long run. I came with you here, I gave you information on the council that was never wrong,” he nodded along smiling at her. She was taken back, stopping mid thought.

“Go on,” he encouraged, small smile still intact.

“We both know we need the other in order to win this war. So we work together, without being at each other’s throats, and when we win this war, which we will Blake,” she smirked at him, he returned it gladly, “then we can go back to hating and mistrusting each other, deal?”

He licked his lips, feet digging into the ground in front of him. She held out her hand for him, the other anxiously tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Deal,” his warm hand closed over her own, disappearing under his glistening tan and bruised knuckles.

Clarke gave him a shy smile, tucking her head. She was still adjusting from what could be classified as a panic attack to see the affect her smile had on the dark-haired rebel in front of her.

She laid back down, tugging the blanket up to her chin hoping that if she did close her eyes for a second time tonight, the pain and fear wouldn’t take that as an invitation to evade her thoughts once more. 

In doing that, she missed a light shining through to see exactly who Bellamy Blake was, because in that moment, he was showing his true colours.

He was staring down at her, in that way he always did, intently.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is really late. 
> 
> Life happened. I know, stupid excuse, but if you only knew.
> 
> I did not edit this chapter a single bit, so I am so so sorry for any mistakes! I hope you like it and I will try to get my game back in posting once every week!

12.

 

When Clarke was a little girl, her parents would take her along with them whenever they got called into work on the weekends. She would put on a show, acting like it was the worst thing in the world but really she looked forward to the pager beeping or the computer monitor flickering red indicating an unread message for her father.

If she had to choose, she preferred wandering around Mecha Station then cooped up in the hospital where she laid on her stomach in her mother’s office drawing picture after picture. Her favorite weekend day usually started with her wrapping her tiny hand around her father’s much larger one and begging to go with him instead of her mom. As much as she enjoyed the company of the nice nurses and doctors, who during their free time asked her about the pictures she drew or about the flowers by the lake near her house she was obsessed with, she was more at ease when she was in a spinning chair watching the rise and fall of her father’s face as he encounters a problem and then solves it just as quick. She always wanted to be like him. To have that natural instinct behaviour that everyone adored.

She thought of this as she rose out of her makeshift bed the next morning. She was painfully glad that she hadn’t woken up a second time that night like she typically would’ve. The bed on the other side of the room was empty. Curious as to where he had gone, she was also very grateful that she didn’t have to deal with him this morning.

After last night, she felt too bare, too vulnerable in his presence and he had only seen the tiniest fraction of her horrors. What terrified her the most was the fact that being vulnerable with him didn’t terrify her. It was like a breath of relief, like someone else knew what she had desperately wanted to share for so long but couldn’t.

And Clarke wasn’t just referring to her nightmare, but to every part of her she wanted hidden.

Scrambling to get up, she threw on her jacket and tried to stomach the stench coming from her hair. It had been four days since she last took a shower, as big as this oil rig is, she knew the plumbing was lacking and unless she was willing to jump into the ocean below them she wasn’t going to get the sweet relief of the cool water flowing down her body.

Outside her room, the hallway was vacant leaving behind a cooler breeze than she expected. She tugged her jacket closer to her body while retracing the steps they took last night to get to the common room. It was buzzing with conversation and Grounders when she finally arrived. It was the complete opposite of the serene quietness from the night before. Their gazes met her golden mucky curls with mild disgust but then quickly continued on with their morning.

The atmosphere, the world was so different here. The ocean was everywhere, and the smell was invigorating, creeping out of every corner. She secretly longed to go back out to the beach.

The people here were in their own minds, caught up in their business and theirs alone. No one looked at her for more than a minute, or even started up a conversation with her as she found a place in line awaiting for what looked to be fish. Must be the prime meal of their diet.

It was all just different. Clarke established that she had to either find a way to see the outside world or get told by someone else that this was in fact earth because she could have sworn she was in a fantasy world. In all honesty it wasn’t that much of a cultural change, she had been around the Grounders long enough to become very comfortable and interested with their way of life. It was the ease of the place. The way the people around had not a care at all except that they are well fed and beaming with happiness that she couldn’t even imagine having in her wildest dreams.

She envied them. She envied Luna. She even envied Bellamy who was so far from seeing this crap and feeling like a complete idiot.

“She would like to see you in the Order Room as soon as you have finished,” Cato stood by her side addressing her. Clarke didn’t bother to ask who he was referring to or even scold him for sneaking up on her like that. She had seen this coming but what took her was the way that no one called Luna anything other than her name. She wasn’t Commander Luna, she wasn’t Heda, was she even their leader?

“Okay,”

\---

“Hi Luna,” Clarke began but was quickly silenced by a hand in her face.

After her insipid breakfast, having never had fish like that before, she was guided to the Order Room. Upon entering, like the artist that she was, her eyes were drawn to the wide wooden doors and metal frames placed in a strategic yet creative designs along the border.

The room was much larger, much wider than she imagined it would be. Possibly bigger than the entire second floor of the Dropship. It had rusted walls, cement for floors, and a coldness that raked her entire body, but it held authority that Clarke had never been familiar with.

The size of the rig from the outside gave not even the slightest of indication as to the true size on the inside. Just like Luna, it had hidden potential despite the bland attempt at seeming otherwise. If only Luna didn’t know this fact. Yet, she did. Luna was well aware of her power, of her stance and her numbers and that’s what irked Clarke the most.

“I do not have time for this Clarke of Skicru. We have been more than kind in letting you stay but your presence is unwanted,” Luna’s crisp glass cutting tone said, “Besides I have already given you my answer. It will not change.”

“I don’t think it’s fair for you to decide for your entire clan,” Clarke ignored her last statement, “don’t they have family in Polis?”

Luna pursed her lips, hair still wild and beautiful, before speaking lowly, “Those who followed me knew what they were leaving behind. They understood that Polis, Lexa and Titus lived by very different rules.”

“I know what that’s like. To disagree with everyone else, those who wanted a war, those who wanted spilled blood,” Clarke emphasized her understanding by taking a step forward, “But we are now fighting someone…someone who will stop at nothing to destroy you all, including us, his own people,”

Thelonious Jaha had the authority of any Chancellor, yet Clarke found that she grew less and less accustom to it. Not just because she didn’t give a shit what he had to say anymore, but more due to the sole reason that her mother carried that same authority and anything to do with her mother, Clarke was against. Thoughts of Abby came rushing in, Clarke swallowed it down. Truth was, as much as she knew the Chancellor and how kind he could be to the select few, he was a tyrant, one that was motivated by hate and power. Sadly, he believed that one gave him the other.

“It is not my problem,” Luna said, rising from the brown chair embroidered with fishnets in an articulate pattern going up and down. Clarke looked flustered, although the room wasn’t as packed as the common room or the dining area, the presence of Luna, her boyfriend, and the two guards hanging by the door made it much more intense. Luna was essentially their only hope at gathering the army they needed in order to win this war. Clarke having repeatedly gone over a speech she’d prepared before going to bed, found herself at a blank.

“How could you say that? Weren’t those people the ones who raised you? Brought you up to be the morally driven person you are today?” Clarke began. The words she crafted so carefully and encoded to memory now wiped away so easily at the sudden surge of anger rising in her. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes going for the large walls, high ceilings, trying to gather courage from anywhere.

Luna smirked, she casted a side glance to the man next to her who smirked in return, “It is really entertaining. I don’t know why but you are innocent, you look innocent. You come here baring false teeth trying to get me to agree to something I spent my whole life shutting out. It does not work on me Clarke. Whatever you say, however you like to approach it. I will not join you.”

If the patronizing tone didn’t do her in, if the words didn’t do her in then it was most definitely her smug face that pushed Clarke off the edge. To hell with her thought out words and attempt at consoling Luna. In her gut Clarke knew that this woman wouldn’t ever give up this life so easily. So willingly.

At this point in time it really truly didn’t matter what Clarke was going to say because the look exchanged between the two guards told Clarke that she would be wasting her breath. But if she was going to waste her breath, might as well be worth it.

“It’s a pretty cowardice thing, don’t you think?” Clarke took a step forward with confidence that she hoped she faked well enough, “I don’t really know why you left Polis, don’t think it would matter much anyway, but to leave your people behind with more problems than solutions only to hide away in the middle of nowhere seems to be a kind of weakness I’ll never want to know,”

Luna’s smirk grew but her border line ebony eyes were unimpressed, “You think I left?”

“Didn’t you?” this got a laugh from Luna.

“No, you silly girl, didn’t your boyfriend tell you?” Clarke ignored the feeling in the pit of her stomach as it travelled up to her heart before being banished by her head.

“He’s not my… No he didn’t tell me,”

“Ah, well,” Luna smiled at the two guards, waving them out. They were reluctant at first but when she shouted a few words at them in her mother tongue they complied. Soon after she whispered in the ear of the man to her right, who took her hand and kissed the top of it before following the guards’ lead.

“I did not run away Clarke, I was exiled.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Clarke muttered loud enough for her to hear. Luna stepped down from her chair until there was little room between her and the hot-heated blonde.

“You chose to come speak to me first, without Bellamy. Correct?” Clarke nodded now not knowing why. She did debate going to look for him after she was done eating. Thinking better of it, she knew he would jump to conclusions and possible get aggressive. If she knew this was how it was going to be, she would have searched high and low for him. “Then you must know that you will not say anything more than he would, so don’t waste our time here,”

“You’re right,” Clarke admitted staring her down, “We will say similar things but there’s more to each person, Luna. You can easily accept your expulsion, admit that maybe Lexa and her people deserve what is coming to them, but you told us when we first arrived, last night, that you believe that blood must not have blood,” Clarke took a step back, wanting Luna to see her clearly as she spoke, wanting to see Luna’s reaction to her words, “I agreed with that, I fought for that but then the people I thought I knew dropped a bomb on us, on Polis. They are forcing our hand, they have taken all the good left in the world, left in me, in you, even in Bellamy, and are using it to drive out the light and turn us into them. Turn us into monsters,” she paused taking a breath.

“So you can be the person that I know you’ve pretended to be, and continue to hide out or,” Clarke gave her best menacing glare, “We band together to fight them. I don’t want to spill blood, and I can see why you don’t want to either. Fuck,” Clarke gave a breathy laugh, “If I lived here, if I got a view of the ocean, of the sunset every day, had someone I loved on my arm and the trust of a thousand people, then yes I would never leave. But I know I couldn’t stop myself or live with myself if I left my people to die, fighting a fight they deserve to win,”

Luna gave no indication that Clarke’s mind was reaching into her own and hopefully getting her to find that there will be no peace without the war coming. As fucked up as it sounded, Clarke had to portray that to her, as best as she could.

“But if you want to be that selfish—”

“Watch your mouth,” seethed Luna. It only prompted Clarke to continue in the same frustrated filled tone with her blaring blue orbs ready for the kill.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it? A selfish bitch who is willing to watch her own kind fall in a pool of their gore just to avoid a small speck of blood to imperfect her delusional world?”

“Shut up!”

“It must be nice, what about that boyfriend of yours? Does he know exactly who he’s in love with? That you won’t throw him to the wolves first chance you get?”

Clarke was well aware that her words were specific, spiteful. Blinded by red, she spoke like she was on fire herself. Spoke, like the hypocrite she was, without flinching. There was no negotiating. Luna wasn’t even willing to compromise and it wasn’t like she had to. Somehow Clarke couldn’t sit still. She couldn’t believe that someone like that, with such morals, who was not willing to fight a useless war, can turn their back on their people.

“You know nothing,” Luna’s deafening volume welcomed back her boyfriend and the two guards who must have been idly waiting outside for this exact reason.

The final sentence echoed, a soft buzzing sound met their ears as the room grew silent with each passing minute. Clarke felt bare, with the way Luna was judging her, amber eyes torn between wanting to strangle her or leave her for the guards to dispose of.

“You do not understand. How could you? A child like you… Leave!” the authority and ice cold wariness was like a slap across Clarke’s face.

She made to move to the door from which she entered but at the last minute turned around. Luna was still standing there, expectedly, like she knew Clarke wasn’t done yet.

Seeing this, Clarke realized that she had said more than what she was meant to. That maybe, Luna might be doing them more of a favor by refusing to fight in the war. Their deaths might be quicker, might feel like nothing with less of them, might end in a blink of the eye.

Without another word, Clarke pushed open the large doors and walked out into the cool hallway.

\---

The sad excuse of a guest room/storage closet was much smaller in the daylight. There was one tiny window in the corner of the room. The walls made from cold hard cement, felt way colder than she expected them to.

On her way back, Clarke did the awkward walk-run through the common room hoping to catch Bellamy but came up short. She was on a mild high from her conversation with Luna. It was the first time in her life where she was able to speak her mind without any interruptions, without fear until only after the conversation was done.

She spat out like that a couple times against Bellamy but it wasn’t purely coated with such confusion or hate. This was the first time she carried no inhibitions.

Technically this wasn’t true, but she took the moments from last night and tucked them away in a tight box in a deep spot where she couldn’t be tempted by it. Right now, she needed to focus on how the hell she was going to explain to Bellamy that she may have ruined any chance they had at gaining this ally, not that they had such great odds.

A knock on the door came before it was flung open.

“Hey, so I kinda…” she trailed off turning to face Cato.

“Luna requested to speak with Bellamy Blake,” his thunderous voice and ready to fight stance was not something she was finding hard to get used to.

“Oh I have no clue where he is,”

“He is with her now. I was told to inform you,”

“Do you know when they’ll be done?”

Cato raised both eyebrows causing the wrinkle lines in his forehead to take shape. He took a step forward grabbing the door knob, shutting it.

“Okay, well I’ll just wait here for him,” she said to the empty space around her.

Clarke let out a sigh she didn’t know she was harbouring. Bellamy would probably hear from Luna how she was disrespected in her own home and that they must leave right away.

She shook off, or tried to at least, the irritation she felt for disappointing him. He had brought her here to help and all she’s done since she met him was make everything worse.

Resentfully, she searched for her backpack in the heap of blankets she was draped in last night. Finding it, she unzipped the zipper and started to pack away the t-shirt she slept in and a few loose pieces of paper she used to write down her ‘speech’ she was going to give Luna about unity and peace. She crumpled up the papers shoving them inside then slid down the wall tucking her knees in close.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered to the empty room again. And this time it was like the empty room brought her voice back to her, echoing, ever so lightly, “You failed.”

 

For the next few hours she stayed in the room. She folded the blankets, went through her bag, unfolded the blankets, tried to take a nap, and then ended up staring at her sketchbook for fifty minutes completely uninspired, just filled with anxiety to the rim.

Her thoughts raced wildly, coaxing her into giving in and allowing the memories to flood her. It was what she did best, allowing her memories to remind her of the things she’s ruined, the people she’s lost, leading her to drown in self-loathing.

She flipped through the thick white pages, stopping at a picture of Monty and Jasper laughing with their head thrown back, they were clasping each other on the back in a place that looked a lot like the glade in the forest at Polis, except with pure sunlight shining down on them, not peeking through the trees, and a smaller fire in front of them. She had drawn it after Grationem Dan. She smiled small, flipping the pages as each flash of an image came up. Octavia and Lincoln in a tight embrace, Raven with her shit-eating semi grin semi smirk, Wick and Bryan hunched over a computer. She stopped on the last page.

It was the most recent one she’d drawn.

Bellamy stared up at her from the page, looking into her eyes, lips straight but giving the tiniest illusion of curved corners. Her finger absentmindedly traced over his features. He was not easy to draw. It was half Clarke wanting to perfect the shape of his nose, the right amount of freckles on each side of his face, and half not wanting to draw him at all.

The way her chest tightened under her loose shirt was all too familiar although never one she could get used to. Having the weight of the world, the hope and the lack of power to change her life, to actually enjoy the company of others or to even consider falling for someone, was so distant and so forbidden to her. She came into this world, his world, knowing that there will be consequences. She always thought that meant that she would have to say goodbye to someone, or maybe get a few dirty looks thrown her way but this was entirely the opposite.

This was letting herself care for those people, letting herself wonder what life would be like if she never approached the Grounders, if she had just stayed at the Dropship and shut her mouth without meeting them or going past the wall. It would have been better, much better. The sun beaming down while she’s on the roof of the Dropship, Octavia and Raven by her side giving her a hard time in the best way, and Bellamy Blake considering her as one of them.

But it wouldn’t have lasted. If she pretended, if she conformed to the ignorance of the people of Arkadia, then it would have ended up being a far worse war. They wouldn’t have been prepared, they wouldn’t have been ready for a fight much less a war. Because Arkadia has been planning for this. It was the only explanation. They had been planning this for a long long time, and a couple days ago, well… that was launch day.

A twist of the door knob caught her off guard, she shut the book in her lap with haste and stood up. His dark hair falling over his eyebrows was the first thing she saw, a trail of blood from the side of his left eyes was dripping down his jaw. He had a purple bruise on the side of his nose, tucked closer to the corner of his mouth where it was also busted and bleeding. Her sight dropped to his broad shoulders and drenched t-shirt.

“What happened?” she rushed over to him. Bellamy held up a hand in protest stopping her before she could place her palm on his bicep.

“I’m fine,” he said sounding scratchy like someone was strangling him.

“Bellamy,” Clarke said lowly, reaching out for him anyway. Her palm met with his upper back steering him towards the pile of blankets she had just scrambled up from. He dragged his bag closer to him, pulling out one of his t-shirts to rub the blood and dirt from his jaw, “Stop you’re gonna ruin it,” Clarke pried it out of his hand.

Bellamy sat there with his knees bent looking at her like he wanted to argue but was too tired to. She embraced this, feeling slightly guilty for enjoying the fact that a cooperative Bellamy was a nice change, and reached into her own bag pulling out a small white squared case with a large red cross across the front of it.

“What? I always carry one around, just in case,” she gave him a pointed look to reply to his questioning one. He sighed, leaning his back against the cold wall. If it bothered him he gave no indication while throwing his head back to meet the concrete as well.

Clarke opened the box and quickly got to work. She pulled a wet disinfecting wipe courtesy of Ark Hospital and carefully wiped away the smeared blood over the left side of his face.

Her hand moved gently, fingers lightly brushed over the tan skin near his hair line, below his ear. Clarke could feel her breathing get heavier, could feel the way it fanned over his flesh but he had his eyes shut, not noticing or too tired to care about her rapid beating heart.

Soft muffled swipes were heard as her elbow kept hitting the wall beside his head. It was a weird angle but he looked too worn to move, and there was no way she was getting any closer than she already was. Holding the wipe differently, she tried to clean him up as best she could but her technique lacked. She could always get him to do it himself, she thought before glancing down at his hand on the floor between them and having to bite down on her lip at the sight of his swollen fingers and the skin breaking on his bruised knuckles.

Fuck it, Clarke thought, pulling away and moving around him. She threw the used wipe to the side, pulling the white box closer to her while placing a tentative hand on his knee. His eyes shot open, a hazy gleam over them. Wanting to look away but not being able to she kept a steady hold on him, placing her other hand on his other knee and pulling them a fraction wider so she could slip between them.

On her knees, she still wasn’t at eye level with him but she was close enough and at the right placement to continue cleaning him up without a weird tick in her arm. He remained motionless, not speaking to her, not doing much of anything other than watching her patch him up. She was well aware of his heated gaze, completely twisting knots in her lower abdomen. She reached forward, wiping gingerly at the corner of his mouth where a blister was beginning to form.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” she asked, breath knocking against his freckles.

“You happened, Princess.”

“I could’ve sworn I heard that before.”

No one spoke for a while, she inspected him one final time predicting exactly where each bruise would take place on his rugged flesh and how long it’ll be before they heal. She sat down, heels of her foot digging into her back side, still between his legs.

“I assume we need to leave tonight?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow at his exhausted form.

“No actually we got invited to a party,”

“Funny,” she deadpanned.

“Luna wants us in the common room tonight.”

“Why?”

“Seems like you made an impression.”

“What did she tell you?” curiosity getting the best of her. Obviously Luna had ratted her out to him, she most likely wanted them there to humiliate them further and then formally decline their request for the tenth time before dropping them into the ocean.

“She told me enough to know that what she wants to say tonight is very important,” Clarke furrowed her brows trying to comprehend what he was saying.

“Okay, I’m confused,”

“Luna told me about your conversation,” Clarke’s shoulders slumped already aware of this information, “she said that you helped her see the truth, that you made her realize what she needed to do.”

Confusion was now just a silly term for what she was feeling, “I don’t think that it’ll be in our favor.”

Bellamy lifted his head from the wall. Clarke watched in anticipation as he scooted closer to her, his thighs pressing on either side of her.

“I don’t think you know the kind of appeal you have on people,” he murmured taking her in. She bit her bottom lip, watched as his eyes followed the movement there.

“What happened to you?” his eyes shot up to hers, a small smirk greeting her.

“Got in a little fight with one of the guards,” he shrugged but Clarke wasn’t buying it.

“Seriously.”

“Me and Derrick had a disagreement,” at her puzzled expression he added, “Luna’s boyfriend,”

“A disagreement that led to you ending up like this?”

“I was kind of paying for your loose tongue,” he joked with an easy grin that made her breath catch. She felt sort of horrible for going off on Luna like that except not enough to forget the fact that in the end she knew either way someone like Luna who was safe, for the time being, would never agree to join forces with them.

“As much as I want to take credit for you getting your ass kicked, I don’t think I deserve it all. Something tells me that pretty mouth of yours got you into it,” she teasingly referred to his use of words weeks ago that were always at the back of her mind.

“Funny,” he mocked causing a girly giggle out of her. As surprised as she was embarrassed at her outburst, she found herself leaning closer to him, shoulders shaking. They were lost, utterly trampled on. She gave a weird scoff laugh at the fact that she ended up here, on an oil rig, pleading for recruits for a war no one was going to win.

Suddenly he was all she saw. Suddenly she was so vastly aware of his bare arms brushing against her shoulder, his thighs pressed up against her sides, how the material covering up his chest was inches away. Her laughter stopped, catching in her throat. She got up in hast, not thinking about anything else other than getting to colder air. Air that wasn’t tainted by him or his magnetism.

“Uh, y-you’re going to be fine, Blake. Just a couple of bruises,” she tilted her chin up, fixed on a point on the wall above his head.

“Where did you get that thing anyway,” he kicked the box lightly by his foot.

“My mom gave it to me a long time ago,”

“You always wanted to be a medic?”

Clarke brushed her hands over her thighs. The sweat that gathered there made her palms clammy.

“No,” she admitted out loud for the first time. Her eyes glaring at the sleeves of his t-shirt.

“Figured,” that made her neck snap down to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“You like to help people, you may even like being a medic, but I can see that your heart isn’t in it,”

“Wow, you have a gift,” the corners of her mouth tilting, “How could you possibly know that?” she whispered after a moment, feeling more exposed than she ever was.

“Because Griffin,” he clasped his hands together over his knees, “I know a sad heart when I see one”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a heart?”

“I don’t,” he agreed closing his eyes once more. She hated to admit it but the ruggedness that came with his scars and purple blotches was insanely attractive.

“Hey,” she called out to him. He half opened his eyelids, turning his head in her direction, “you can’t fall asleep. I don’t know how hard he hit you but you may have a concussion,”

“You’re going soft, Princess. Didn’t you yell at me less than twenty-four hours ago?”

“Says the one with the nickname he can’t seem to let go of. It’s Clarke by the way,” she went to the other side of the room, directly across from him before sliding down the wall and mimicking his position.

“I think you like it,” his infamous smirk made an appearance.

Rolling her eyes while tripping over the fact that he had shown her more than twice now how well he knew her, she brought her fingers up and through her knotted hair.

Bellamy’s own eyes rolled back as he adjusted his position to be more restful. Afraid he was going to get lulled into a slumber, Clarke opened her mouth and spoke much too loudly.

“No one ever told me why you guys call them Grounders anyway?”

“Because they knew the grounds better than the people of Arkadia, who stayed confided behind their wall,” Bellamy replied, eyes still closed.

“Didn’t Lexa say the wall was built fifty years ago?”

“Yeah but even then, no one went exploring,”

“What happened?”

She was enticed by his brown spheres finally meeting her. He was quiet for a few seconds, she figured he must be debating if he should tell her but he surprised her by giving her a small encouraging smile.

“C’mere and I’ll tell you,”

He was always surprising her. Two days ago she would have told him to jump off the cliff he saved Mel from, that _she_ would jump off that stupid cliff rather than be that close to him, that impaired ever again.

However, it was two days later and in those moments between worry and fear, she found that his company was something else entirely.

“Fine, but I expect the whole damn story,” she groaned going back over to his side of the room. He chuckled deep and raw causing her toes to curl.

“Lexa was right. The wall got put up because someone caused a rift between the citizens of Arkadia and the Grounders. Except, the Grounders and the Arkadians are one in the same,” he launched into the story.

“How do you mean?” Clarke said, wrapping her arms around her knees tucking them closer to her chest.

“There was no sides in the beginning. It was all one nation. Some people decided to settle in what we know as Arkadia and some decided to settle in what is now Polis,” his tone was like a professor giving a lesson, she bit back a smile at that.

“They were fine for fifty years. Both following the same rules, both run under the same Chancellor and then one day someone had enough. It was a mother, who was forced to kill her child. She went into hiding when she first found out she was having a second child. Then after giving birth, she was cornered. They shoved a gun in her hand and tormented her,” his voice was sullen, holding an edge so sharp, “the Chancellor at the time, drunk with power, wanted to use her as an example. People were pretty good at following his fucked up laws but when the opportunity presents itself, he jumps at the chance to prove just how powerful he is. Fucking coward,” hate spilled across the floor at his scornful tone.

“The woman ended up shooting her son, then herself. She had an older daughter, one who was nowhere to be found at the time. I think she wanted to kill her too, not wanting her daughter to grow up in that kind of world but didn’t have the time to run around and find her,” Clarke sat in place, not having moved an inch. She watched as his lips moved telling the tale of a sad society. A sad reminder known all too well.

“That’s the girl Lexa mentioned right? The girl she said she knew?”

Bellamy nodded, “It was her mother.”

Clarke gaped at the new information that met her ears.

“All hell broke loose not long after. Turns out the woman was raped; it wasn’t her fault. They didn’t have the right implants perfected at the time, they used special herbs. No one believed her when she told them, they wouldn’t even sell her the herbs because fate is a bitch and the owner’s son was the bastard who did it,”

“So she killed her child and herself,” she started.

“For a mistake that she didn’t make,” he finished off sighing.

“What happened to the girl? Lexa’s mother?”  
“She was a child of war. She was only six years old. She had made friends in Arkadia, knew only kindness but when shit hit the fan, everything was tarnished. Friendships broken, war threatened. The Chancellor had a rebellion sucking away at his power, so like the fucker he was, he built a wall, chipped everyone and burned all remembrance of a world without a barrier between the good and the bad. Little did he know that no matter what you do, bad was being created inside his little prison,”

Her expression was one of bewilderment at his use of words. The way he so carelessly mentioned the thoughts she’s always had.

“That’s insane,” Clarke turned her gaze ahead of her, “Lexa told you this?”

“Not at first, when she found out about Octavia, about our life, she was more than compliant,”

Clarke pushed back that green envy crawling from her feet to her head. His past was his, like hers was hers. Lexa and Bellamy swapping stories was slightly irritating since he has failed to do as much with her, but she had to remind herself once again that she shouldn’t care about that.

“How come no one else knows about this?” she asked.

“Not everyone is willing to listen, let alone believe it. They’re all brainwashed,” he closed his mouth briefly, going to continue his thought when the door swung open.

“You are wanted in the common room,” a younger male said to the pair of them. He had boyish features, softer looking skin and an attitude that held less brassiness than Cato. Bellamy said a few words to him as he got up but Clarke was too consumed in the things she recently learned.

“Let’s go,” Bellamy whispered in her ear when she reached her full height.

Together they made their way to the common room, taking calculated steps behind their new guide and by the looks on their faces they were definitely planning for an attack or an escape route. Whichever came first.

\---

It was much louder, much busier than it had been in the morning. The large garage like door was flung open again letting the gorgeous view of the sunset to be their back drop.

“I kind of wish I didn’t tell Luna she was a selfish bitch only for the fact that I want to stay an extra night just to see this view one last time,” she mumbled by Bellamy’s shoulder. She didn’t manage to catch his response because they were both pushed to be in front of Luna and Derrick.

The two men were shooting daggers at each other, by the matching bruises and the puffed up yellow blotchy flesh on both sides of Derrick’s jaw it seemed like one hell of a fist fight.

“Leaders of Skicru,” Luna said in a quieter, less icy filled voice. Clarke made a small sound in the back of her throat wanting to correct her assumption in thinking Clarke was co-leading but when a familiar hand wrapped tightly around her wrist she held back. Her stare drifted to the long tan fingers enclosed around her white flesh. When she averted her attention back to the thirteenth clan’s leader, she was made aware of the fact that Luna caught sight of exactly what had happened.

“I thank you for coming all this way to build such _strong_ connections,” her eyes lit up while her lips were still a constant straight line, “I am pleased to say that you have made a valid point. We are all one. We all must fight the enemy who is so willing to slaughter us off one by one, however,” she paused turning around the room, make sure every last person had eyes and ears on her, “We will fight our own way. You will not get our soldiers but our intel, our supplies, and when the time comes, our support,”

Clarke snapped her stare away from Luna and to the man standing at her sides, fingers ghosting over the delicate flesh of her inner wrist. He remained passive, unmoving, and like this news what not news to him at all.

The room was like a dark tunnel, except it wasn’t dark, not with the glowing hues of auburn and pink that flattered the sky coming in from the open garage like door. But, it did feel like they were going deeper and deeper into this never ending silent death trap. Everyone, all the Grounders, that gathered around weren’t hostile about the fact that they may have to give up their best weapons. They were probably much too happy about the fact that they were far from the battle lines as they could be.

After another beat, Luna called out in their native tongue and one by one the Grounders turned to her and Bellamy and gave a short, firm bow in acceptance.

A meaningful glimpse was caught in the silent interaction between him and Derrick to which he quietly stepped back, away from her, and in the opposite direction. Derrick followed him not long after. Her eyes trailed after them, a part of her wanting to follow but the sharpness in Luna’s stance told her otherwise. Together, they walked out the open doors and into the evening, ocean filled air.

“You must be surprised,” Luna mused, taking in the view like she just saw it for the first time. Clarke gaped silently beside her earning the small corners of Luna’s lips to flick up.

“A little bit,” Clarke admitted, “It wasn’t what we were hoping for but, support is a luxury we couldn’t afford, not with the accusations thrown our way. So, thank you,” she added lowly.

“I did not do this because I am intimidated by you Clarke,” Clarke scoffed, rolling her eyes. Luna’s smirk turned playful, something Clarke thought she’d never see before continuing, “Your words did strike me, but not in the way you were expecting them to. I appreciate your honesty, more so, the fact that you believe in such a cause that will no doubt end you. But…if you must die, then it should be the death you deserve, with the people who believed in your power surrounding you.”

“You believe I have power?”

“It’s interesting that you don’t see it.”

“It’s because it’s not there,” Clarke argued furrowing her brows. Luna thinks Clare has some kind of influence on the people of Arkadia which couldn’t be far from the truth. She’s the runaway princess with too much emotional baggage and demons she holds on a tight leash, “No one believes I can lead,”

“It does not matter if they believe it or not. I saw it today; in the way you defiantly spoke to me without a car except for that of your people.”

“I spoke to you like that because I was angry,” Clarke replied, she debated whether she should apologize for it or not but Luna wasn’t prying for one and Clarke realized that she wasn’t the least bit apologetic.

“Lexa believes you can lead, it’s why she sent you here.”

“What?” she asked taken off guard.

“She was the one who wanted you to come along with Bellamy, no? She must think you can lead,” Clarke wasn’t able to process what she just heard. She wasn’t able to process the last twenty-four hours actually. It wasn’t the time to anyway, from the corner of her eye she saw both territorial and clearly very angry men walk back into the room. At least there were no signs of any new bruises.

“What is he to you?” Luna motioned at the tall figure nearing close.

“I’m not sure,” Clarke admitted, her gaze lifting off of him. She had wondered the same thing time and time again. They weren’t really friends, despite their heart to heart or what can be classified as a heart to heart with Bellamy the other night. But he was warming up to her, and she was liking it.

“Ah, well, we will send the supplies, and agreed upon equipment shortly,” Luna’s diplomatic voice rang clear and true. Skicru and the twelve clans will be getting the weapons, the food, the hardware of Luna’s people but there was no way they were ever getting the numbers that Luna has.

“Good,” came the deep roar from behind her, “and what we agreed on will be done too,”

Clarke gave him a questioning raise of the eyebrow to which he ignored. She shifted to see if she could get answers from the Derrick or the leader that was now draped over him but neither would meet her half way.

“Then you may leave,” Derrick said, crisp and clean.

Bellamy nodded once, at each of them before Cato appeared with their bags.

\---

“So what the hell did you agree to with Luna and Derrick?” Clarke asked when they were back in the cold, wet rover.

They made it back onto the beach and through the forest without talking at all, although the question was bubbling inside Clarke since the moment Cato shoved her sketchbook at her harshly and with a knowing grin. She shook off the shiver that was threating the curve of her spine and torqued in her seat so she was facing him.

“Nothing important.”

Clarke squinted not buying his bullshit for one second. Giving her a side glance, he saw just as much and sighed, “Just making sure their people stay safe.”

She still wasn’t buying it, “I thought they made that pretty clear, plus Luna can obviously handle any threat that comes their way,”

“Forget it Clarke,” his gruff voice carried through the entire rover but not as loud as the hard glare she was burning in the side of his head. If he noticed, he ignored it but she could have sworn she saw him shift a little in his spot.

“Fine,” she replied, “I guess Lexa managed to get one thing out of Luna’s clan,”

“I’m sure she got a lot more.”

“How?”

He pressed his lips in a thin line, face straight ahead and finger curling around the steering wheel. Clarke was about to speak again when he let out another deep breath.

“If the thirteenth clan is willing to give their best supplies and their support then no one, not a single person from the other twelve clans, can disagree with the Commander or step out of line.”

“Why’s that? Luna told me she was exiled.”

“She was exiled because she wouldn’t take her place as Commander. What happens when the person you wanted to lead you, to guide you, leaves and never returns your messages but then when a war comes, they’re front and centre?” Bellamy asked, resting one hand on the console. Clarke watched as his long tan fingers hung in the space between them, she looked over at her own sitting in her lap.

“It means they believe this war is worth fighting.”

He smiled small, something she thought she could never get used to, but slowly, so fucking slowly she was having to stop her heart from fluttering out of her chest.

“Lexa was smart,” Clarke said with a hint of irritation, “sending me with you,”

When Clarke found out that it was really Lexa that thought she should go with Bellamy instead of him wanting her to come along, it felt like a shit ton of bricks came crashing down on her. It was merely the fact that she thought she was making progress with the rebel leader that she felt so disappointed, nothing else. Especially with their conversation the night before, she thought she was working her way into their sacred group, but I guess it takes much more than a lousy deal to be treated like you belong.

“What?” Bellamy asked, swerving around a tree stump.

“Lexa told you to bring me along,” Clarke shrugged feigning nonchalant, “it was smart.”

“Lexa didn’t tell me to bring you Clarke,” he slowed the rover down as it dipped into the dark tunnel leading them back to the other side of the wall.

“Huh?”

“Lexa didn’t tell me—”

“No I got that, but Luna said,” she paused, adjusting to the lack of light and the coldness seeping in.

“Luna thought Lexa was the one who sent us both but really Lexa just sent me, she actually suggested I take Lincoln who knows Luna pretty well. She thought he had a better chance at getting her to cooperate,”

“Wait then why didn’t you take Lincoln?”

“She would have offered him the same deal she offered us,” it was his turn to shrug his shoulders.

“Bellamy, we were lucky to even get that deal! Why the hell didn’t you take Lincoln?” she asked pissed off at the fact that they may have had a better chance with someone who actually knew the sea bitch.

Bellamy chuckled, which both puzzled and bothered Clarke, “Easy Princess, Lincoln doesn’t represent us. He’s not Skicru, not really,”

Clarke was at a loss of words. On one hand she was secretly pleased at the fact that Bellamy thought she was one of them, that’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? On the other hand, she was slightly upset that that was the only reason he wanted her to come.

“If Octavia heard you, she’d kick your ass,” Clarke said instead, ignoring all the feelings Bellamy seemed to cause.

“She shouldn’t be messing around with that Grounder anyway,” he replied with annoyance coating his words.

“He’s done nothing but prove to you he’s on your side and that he’s so deep in love with her,” a look of pain flashed across his face and she had to stifle a laugh, “Look, you joke about not having a heart, and sometimes I believe you,” she shot him a look, “but, I think you have a huge heart when it comes to your sister, and you don’t want anyone else giving her any more than you do, but, you have to face it Blake. You have to accept that someone else loves her too and wants to protect her.”

“My sister—”

“Yeah, yeah your fucking responsibility. We get it, but guess what, I want to protect her too, so does Jasper, so does Nathan, what you’re going to fight us all off?”

“If I have to,” he held a seriousness Clarke was afraid to indulge in.

“I think you can take Jasper, especially when he’s high, Miller may leave a few marks, but I’m pretty sure I can kick your ass.”

His soft chuckle touched her body, in all the places she was ticklish, in all the ways it could, “I don’t doubt it, Princess.”

She was thankful he was too focused on the grounds in front of them, too dark and busy to steal a glance her way and find her redder than she has ever been in his presence. It wasn’t fair. Truly, it wasn’t fair that she finally finds her place, finally finds her way and then the sad truth comes into play. Like a bucket of ice cold water splashing down on her reminding her of where she actually is and how little she’s actually done to save her world.

They drove out of the tunnel and into the night sky. It was slightly brighter and with the taillights guiding their way the trees and vines and leaves didn’t look as eerie. The stars were nowhere to be seen, except for one tremendously bright one shinning up high, smack in the middle of the black sky.

Twenty minutes later they were back at the Dropship. Bellamy was talking with Miller about what happened while they were gone when she heard her name. She wished she hadn’t.

“Clarke,” Raven’s voice was shaky, hesitant and it caused the nerves and alarm to set deep in Clarke’s soul. She had never heard Raven speak this way, ever.

“What is it?”

“I’m so sorry, Clarke. I know you guys were close…” she trailed off when Clarke rushed past her and to the engineering room at lightning speed. On the screen was an image of Wells, and underneath in block letters were the words ‘WELLS JAHA, CHANCELLOR’S SON, FOUND DEAD THREE MILES AWAY FROM HOME’.

Clarke stepped back, legs shaking, mouth a gap. She tripped over her own feet, back hitting the edge of the table, butt gliding by the chair before she met the cold floor. Wick and Monty rushed to her side but she ignored them. The image, those words, everything just started to rush and blur in a way she couldn’t comprehend.

“How?” the word came out breathy and tired and so sad that no one could really look at her. Raven turned up the volume and let the video play.

“Ark Guards found the body three miles away from Chancellor’s mansion. The young Jaha, was on his nightly run when he was attack left to bleed out on the side of the road,” the woman in the red trench coat spoke crisp and clear, reporting the news with no sense of empathy, “It appears to have been several knife wounds that caused the death of Wells Jaha, the night after Skicru’s act of terror. It seems the finger points in one direction and with the constant threat of Blake and his crew, no is safe.”

The image of her childhood best friend, coated in his own blood, lying on the hard ground was all she could see, playing over and over and over again.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually don't like writing chapter notes. One, people don't like to read them. Two, I've always wanted the words in this story to tell it, not have me explain anything, mostly because I'm prone to giving away spoilers!
> 
> Nonetheless, this is pretty much a filler chapter. It's gearing the squad up for an epic journey and a monumental war. 
> 
> Sorry for the late updates. School is starting soon and they will be less frequent. It's definitely going to go from once a week to once every two weeks or as often as I can write them and publish them.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks again for all the love, the kudos, the comments!!!! 
> 
> Bellarkers are the shit ;) (Too much? Too soon?)

13.

 

In all the moments, in all the memories, the pleasant ones anyway, Wells Jaha’s smile was vibrant. It was a spark of lightning in between dark clouds. It was all Clarke could do without crying when she thought of never seeing it again. Except, it wasn’t as brightly lit as she recalled.

Witnessing his limp body, no longer beating along to this horrific world, she realized that behind that flash of teeth, that good heartedness in his eye, he was hiding his biggest fears, and his upmost concerns. 

Being the Chancellor’s son was difficult enough, and despite it all, he was still able to be himself.

Clarke had envied it more than she’d liked. 

“Griffin,” she heard, getting hauled up to her feet. A strong arm wrapped around her biceps dragging her out of the engineering room. Her vision blurry with tears but she wasn’t able to make sense of anything other than the replaying image in her head.

There was a small crowd surrounding them on the main floor of the Dropship, and with a thunderous shout to get back to their posts, the crowd scattered about, making room for her out-of-mind body to be heaved up the stair steps.

She wasn’t breathing. She wasn’t gasping for air or trying to gulp down the pain that filled her veins, that taunted her soul. No, she didn’t even pay much attention to the air circulating her. She focused on the tiles covering the floor beneath her. Beige and dirty, like sand in the dessert. Not that she’d ever know what that’s like, what that felt like. The closest she’s been, was the pearly white sand kissing the shore back near Luna’s rig. 

“Breath,” he urged her, loosely placing his palm on the small of her back.

“I can’t,” she whimpered.  

He paused, stopping her.

Her gaze still casted downward, and her body still not feeling like her own. She had experienced loss. She had done things. She had suffered.

This felt all too familiar, not in the same way, but close enough to make her fear going to sleep tonight. To make her fear the recurring terrors that would surely be awaiting her arrival once her head hits the pillow. 

She shook her head leaving her messy and clingy curls to frame her face, “I just need to be alone,” she croaked out.

Bellamy ducked his head low, attempting to meet her eyes but she was stubbornly avoiding him. If she let him see, those tears she swore she wouldn’t shed again, she would no doubt start to cry, and she knew, with all her heart, that this time around she wouldn’t be able to stop crying.

“I’m fin—”

“Don’t,” he sent tremors through her. She turned her head to the side, blonde crusty hair acting as her shield. He dipped his head lower, catching her chin with his forefinger and thumb, her skin soft and fragile under his calloused fingertips, he looked like he was going to say something but when cold air hit her chin, and the loss of his touch brought the sorrow back into her, she nudged by him.

Too exhausted and too lost in her childhood thoughts to care, she sprinted to the girl’s restroom, locking the door behind her. Grappling for sanity, she forced all the terrible images out of her mind but to no advantage. It wasn’t until she twisted the knob sending a stream of hot water out of the shower spout did she finally give in to them.

A sob caught in her throat. 

A tear threatened to fall.

A piece of her heart being shaved off with the sharpest knife.

Clarke discarded all her clothes, her hair tickling the nape of her neck and sticking to the space between her shoulder blades.

It was there, under the burning water that she finally cried out. The tears getting lost, she didn’t know where they began, where they fell off her jaw. Like she had intended. 

The water slapped against her bare back creating a nice rose colour to cover her from shoulder to tail bone. She sat down, pulling her knees to her chest, with her forehead pressed against her kneecaps and inhaling the steam, secretly hoping it would suffocate all the pain away.

Except it didn’t. It only reminded her of what a failure she had been.

It was foolish of her to think that she held any voice. That with her presence there, Lexa would fall back and Luna would accept. How arrogant was she to think that she held some sway with them? That her body count could do anything other than remind them of the enemy. 

The night of her father’s death she vowed to his dead corpse she would find a way to ensure that peace among them all was possible. That the people behind the wall, the people of Arkadia and anyone else in between would have freedom, would be able to have the self-determination those before them never even had a sniff of.  

Three months ago, she swore to it. Swore she would fight until her dying breath to make sure her father’s death wasn’t in vain. Then after she was done, after, when it would all be over, she would run away. Her freedom calling to her. Not her mother, nor Jaha, nor Skicru would make her stay. The light at the end of the tunnel, the reason she was where she was. 

On that very first night, her clothes seeped with light rain, the girl with the dark ponytail at her side, she had told Bellamy that all she had wanted was to help him. That she had wanted to see peace. Clarke never mentioned that the prize at the end of it all, was her freedom. 

Finally, something that she had dreamed about, had wanted her whole life would soon be hers.

But she had lost her way, for sure. 

She was blinded by her own condescending mind that let her believe that it would be easy. The sacrifices that would be made would be bearable. How could anything in this world be bearable after what she had done? After what she had witnessed? 

She was blinded by feeling wanted, by the need to belong to something more than her own personal mission. Friendships, the past, the stories, and even what-could-have-beens taunted her. They all gave her hope that maybe this isn’t just cut and dry. Maybe her mission didn’t end with a coalition.

Though it had to. Because that bastard, that tyrant was vicious. His own son, her best friend, beaten, butchered to nothing more, because of that tyrant thirst of something he never even deserved. His power, all that power, should never have been that great. No one was enough, no one was _good_ enough to possess such power and rule the world rightly. 

Dark skin, wide eyes, and a tightness in her lower stomach kept the sobs, kept the silent screams coming. There was no way out of this. She left her only friend behind, and now he was gone.

Her fears were of those who feared neglect, scared of being shooed away for wanting to aid, despite their title. Her fears had come true. In a sense.

Skicru was reluctant at first. Lexa was. Luna was. But they eventually saw her. They allowed her to be one of them. And she took it, and it was the worst fucking thing she could have done.

_No, no, no, no, no…._

Mind shuttering pounds pulsed from her temples, to the top of her head, to the back of her neck. The spray coming down didn’t do much to ease it.

Those were her fears at first. With more terrors coming their way, the boundless promise of war and death was starting to find a home in her mind.

All she could do now was sit, flesh against the cold, porcelain tub and for one minute, stop thinking.

\---

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Monty, for someone so fragile and innocent, spit out with a harshness no one has ever seen before. Jasper’s eyes shifted from one figure to the next.

Raven ignored their glares and muttered to her keyboard, “She deserved to know,” 

“Of course she needed to know, but not like this Reyes.” 

“How the fuck else? She could handle it.” 

“Yeah, because she didn’t rush out of here in tears, choking on air,” he snapped back.

Bellamy heard the exchange. He had an urge to slam their heads together but knew that the words needed to be said. Monty had to defend the girl he’s been working side by side with and Raven needed to learn timing.

It would have surprised him how defensive Monty was, yet it hadn’t. He noticed the friendship they shared, the way Clarke welcomed Monty like a younger brother was refreshing. All his life he had only Jasper. 

He should have stopped them though.

“Fuck you—”

“Enough!” His thunderous voice echoed.

The room stilled. They all watched as he stayed planted in spot, looking up at the screen with arms crossed. Wells Jaha’s blood was darker than night. It was strange. He never saw anything like it. Bodies rot, yes, not like this though. Blood is red, three days later it’s still red, a week later it smells, but it’s still burning red.

“Boss?” Jasper called out dragging his gaze from the haunting image. 

Wick, Bryan and Miller were on one side of the room. Not daring to meet his eyes. Raven was still glaring down at the lettered keys while Monty was nowhere to be seen. He must have left while Bellamy was lost in his thoughts. 

If Monty was trailing after Clarke, let him. She needed someone, no…she didn’t need someone. Clarke was strong. She never would have needed anyone, that much she’d proved. 

But, he wanted someone to be there with her. Someone she could trust and accept warmth from. 

He worked hard to make sure that it was never him.

The blonde goddess. The one who came out of nowhere and into his life. Standing outside his room in the flimsy top he could see her cleavage from, and that barely there jacket that did nothing to shield her from the nipping cold air.

He worked hard to make sure that it will never be him. 

“Boss?” Jasper whispered once more. Bellamy could see the fear in his eyes for disrupting their leader’s brainstorming. Except he wasn’t really brainstorming. 

It was a petite, stubborn body that stormed his brain. 

“Jasper, get back to work. All of you do the same. Reyes, you stay,” he commanded.

Quickly, as if the room was on fire, they dispersed. Raven’s loose ponytail hung low on her back. He knew she must have run her fingers through it, almost pulling out the strands as she was the first to see the news.

“She needed to know, okay? If we hid it from her she would have found out and it would have been a lot worse for us and you know it,” she seemed to ramble on, grasping at anything that could justify her actions.

“I agree, she needed to know. There was no avoiding this. It’s not what I want to talk to you about.” 

Raven lifted her head, palms at her side she raised an eyebrow, “What’s wrong?”

Bellamy clenched his teeth. The muscles running along his forearms that much more defined as his whole body went ridged. 

Everything was wrong.

“Luna agreed to donate supplies, but that’s it. The numbers are stacked against us, and Wick showed me the surveillance videos, their training is complicated, lethal.” He sighed, heavy and full of hate.

Arkadia’s army is gearing up for the fight of their life, and Skicru was taking the blame for their shit, with lesser people than they started with. “We need to take the next step.”

“You’re joking Blake, there’s so much…” she trailed off, the weight of her tongue thick. Fear flashed in her amber eyes, he tried not to let his reflect the same. Bellamy was a mask. He spent his whole life refracting any sign of true emotions, keeping that blank canvas etched across him.

Raven stared at him with a beam so sharp. As if her eyes were lasers, she would have cut right through him. He didn’t blame her but that final drop, Wells Jaha’s death, that was it.

If that low, filthy, power hungry jackass was willing to spill his own blood just to prove a point, they were all doomed. 

Bellamy tried not to think of what this meant for them. He tried not to mention that if they didn’t go, now, their precious Dropship, the place that was a saving grace, but a curse, would go under with everyone in it. And, he tried not to think of that blue eyed princess sitting up in her room, wondering where she went wrong.

He found it insanely hard to believe that a council member’s daughter wanted coexistence. He knew that wasn’t what she came here to do. To fulfill her father’s dying wish was merely a cover.

However, he let her have it. Bellamy plays along as she claimed and bragged about peace. He doesn’t know why he does.

“It’s time,” was all he said.

He left with a slow, powerful stride. Leaving Raven, messy hair and all, staring after him.

\---

 

After drowning herself in her endless stream of self-hate, the water grew colder and colder. She remained seated in the tub, until the goosebumps on her skin slowly accepted the freezing temperature. 

Her entire body fell limp. She was so close to slipping onto the tile floors when she finally did get out, shutting the water with shaky hands. 

What was the last thing she said to him? When was the last time she hugged him?

Clarke pressed her forehead against the bathroom wall, naked, hair dripping wet causing a line to flow down her shoulders, curves and the muscles of her back.

Another moment. Another beat, and she reached over to some abandoned and probably used towels. Not caring, she wrapped one around herself tightly, releasing the smoky, dull air clouding her when she ripped open the door.

Maybe she deserved this. She tried not to dwell in it, or mention it, but… while she was hanging around with the rebels, chasing a hopeless dream, her best friend was back there, with the ruthless, cruel traitors of their land. 

He was calling out to her, begging her to come back. She didn’t listen. 

Clarke never listens.

Her blood called out, whispering that she’ll always stay the same. She will constantly be the girl who thought she could run away and everything would fix itself. She was a fucking fool.

Her room was empty once she entered it. Sitting on the edge of her unmade bed, she peered at her surroundings. Nothing was out of place, nothing was touched.

How long had Raven known?

Wells died two days after the bombing attack. She was sitting in this very room, on that old piece of shit couch, drawing, avoiding everyone.

In that instant, something hit her. Hard.

Nothing was making sense. It’s not because my judgement is impaired, she said coolly to herself.  No, nothing had made sense for a long while.

What did Clarke really know?

She came to a warehouse in the middle of nowhere to join the world’s notorious group of rebels. Desperation.

She survived a bombing only because a forgotten underground storage unit was made available to her. That Finn had one day stumbled upon. Luck.

She managed to persuade an exiled leader who praised her own ignorance to cooperate in some form. Her loose tongue and fiery temper. 

But… 

She found the Dropship easily.

When she had first arrived here, everyone was questioning her. Not only her presence but the fact that she was _willing_ to come here, come to them. Then, they wondered how the hell this girl finds a place so well hidden? Bellamy had said they were wary of her for many reasons, one of which was her ability to locate the Dropship with little to no help. 

Now that she’s thinking about it, she never really did that much research. Clarke had found one of her father’s old world maps, quite large actually. From there she…

Clarke sprang from her spot to the other side of her bed. Under her pillow, she pulled out one of the many notebooks she had packed all those nights ago. She flipped through the pages until she arrived at that map. The same map that guided her here. There, on the tiniest piece of land that was Arkadia was a line from her house to the Dropship. She had drawn it herself.

She had truly not known exactly where the Dropship was. From whispers on the streets, she gathered it had to be somewhere inside that large circle she’d drawn. So on the train that day, she was prepared to run around looking for it.

Somehow it had found her.

There was something else.

Jagged folds and bends creating deep creases on the paper covered the bodies of water on the map. There were no other ones except for the faint triangle in the middle of that circle she outlined in black marker.  Those creases, those lines were not on any other piece of paper in that notebook. So they didn’t come from her. 

On the map though, inside that circle, those creases creating a vibrant triangle around the exact location of the Dropship was almost like someone had folded it that way. 

How had she not seen it before?

There was not a single uncertainty in her. Someone had folded it; someone had purposely folded it. 

Her heart began to beat louder and louder until her ears started to hurt. Fingers shakily attempting to keep the page from slipping off the sheets but to no avail. The only people who had ever seen that map were her and her father. Sinclair works with Skicru. Sinclair worked with her father. Skicru has been among them since before Clarke was born.

Marcus Kane ran it then. Marcus Kane knew Sinclair. Sinclair knew her father.

What about the bombing? 

Arkadia bombed around the Dropship but not directly on it. The theory was that they had only meant to scare them off. Meant to blame the deaths on them. Meant to make it seem like they were trying to eliminate the barricade. Meant to cause a riot between them and the Grounders so that they could finish each other off while Thelonious Jaha sits on the sidelines twirling his thumbs, waiting with satisfaction.

There had to be more. Clarke wasn’t convinced this was their only reason. Why go through all this trouble to blame them for a few explosives that had actually taken down more of their men than anyone else? 

And just like that anger soar through her. Nothing like anything she’s ever seen before, nothing like anything she’s ever felt before. 

Three-now four- months ago, after her father’s death, she was visited by a raging wrath.

The smoke coming out of her could easily put that to shame.

She tossed the door open without a care, greeted by the faces of those walking in the skybox. Some looked at her like she was crazy, wide-eyed and fearful, some couldn’t form any type of reaction because it was sudden. So sudden that she didn’t realize or care that she was still in a feeble towel that barely covered the top half of her thighs.

Bare feet pounding, she stomped up the stairs, brushing, pushing and pulling past people. People who looked after her in bewilderment. She could have sworn she saw Octavia in the midst of them, jaw dropped. Clarke kept moving through, ignoring everything but the surge of fire emitting off her whole body.

The water that was latched onto her pale skin had dried leaving only her strands of gold cascading tiny, a beat far apart, droplets down her shoulders.

Blue eyes narrowed at the door in front of her when she reached the third floor. She cut the distance between them promptly, not bothering to knock, and flew right past the threshold.

“I want the truth, all of it, now!” she demanded, eyes blazing red, from crying or her fury, no one knew. 

Tousled hair, like he was running his fingers through it, had her line of sight. If she looked down she might break and lose it all. She had to remain strong. This, right here, this moment, was all she had. From the minute she stepped foot into his world, she was left behind. Used like a puppet who was taken from place to place to do his bidding while he kept a tight lock on her, giving her nothing but emptiness and darkness to any and all her questions. 

Fuck this. She was strong. She was powerful. She will receive all the answers to whatever fucking questions she wanted to ask. It was owed to her, and he’d be damned if he didn’t deliver.

Her eyes found his, wide and lingering on her towel. Clarke stepped closer not before reaching behind and slamming the door with a force felt all the way down to the bottom floor. 

“Speak,” she demanded again, palms now in fists at her sides. She resisted the urge to curl her fingers into the edge of the soft towel, trying to cover up the flush that coated her legs, arms, working up to her neck and cheeks. 

“Get out,” he gritted finally coming to his senses.

Bellamy’s stare went from surprise to irritation in a snap. Hers went from livid to being seconds away from throwing him off his balcony. 

It was clear that before she intruded, he was welcomed by the crisp night air, a cigarette between his two fingers. The cold air caused the reformation of goosebumps along her exposed flesh. His cigarette, now put it, left a burning scent in its place.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you know. About me, my family, Arkadia, everything.” 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, coming in here and demanding things from me?”

“Cut the bullshit, you have deflected long enough,” she took another step closer, “I deserve to know.”

Bellamy chuckled, a very dark chuckle that sent an infinite amount of shivers up and down her spine, the cold air was nothing in comparison. “You think coming in here, in nothing but a towel will get me to tell you anything,” he smiled wickedly, “didn’t know you were this kind of girl, Princess.”

Clarke collided with him. Throwing her body weight against him with a loud, irritated grunt, she sent punch after punch into his abdomen, his chest, his arms. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move. He didn’t even pull back when she landed one on his jaw. He stood there, accepting them all.

“You’re fucking pathetic Blake, this is all you are,” she heaved but not daring to stop, no matter how loose the towel was getting, “a sad pathetic son of a bitch who would gladly bend over and let anyone take a shot at him for what?” she threw a punch to his side, “you let Marcus do it,” a punch to his chest, smack center, “you let your sister do it,” his shoulder, “and now you’re letting me,” she was a breath away from his cheek when he gripped her closed fists in his hand, sliding his foot around her ankle.

She fell with a bounce against his bed as he followed after her, his clothed chest to her toweled one, although at this point only the bottom half of her breasts were covered. 

“Watch yourself,” seething, he tightened his hold on her, crushing her under his weight.

“Pathetic,” she spat at him.

The moments in Luna’s rig so forgotten, the car ride a fragment of her imagination, still, the urge to close the space between them was shadowing, crawling in the back of her mind. It was only when his glare flicked to her lips that she realized this.

Her breasts rising and falling against him, her breath mixing with his. She prayed that he couldn’t feel the hard peaks of her chest through the towel. With his hungry glare that frightened her and lit her up in flames, she watched him back, as he clenched his jaw.

“Tell me the truth,” she whispered, lips nearly brushing the end of his chin.

“I’ve never lied.” Hot breath crashed into her. He looked torn.

“Did you know my father?” 

Bellamy didn’t look as surprised as she had hoped. In fact, he didn’t look the least bit worried that she fell onto this suspicion. With his eyes still on hers, he nodded. 

“Did he work for you?”

Another nod.

“He knew Marcus Kane?”

He didn’t move. 

“What else do you know?” 

Giving her a pointed look, she connected the dots that were lingering around her skull, refusing to fuse together. Tears prickling, threatening to spill, she felt his weight come off her. 

“Explain,” her lower lip trembled, the distance between them now much greater than it’s ever been. 

Bellamy lined his back against the far wall, facing her sitting form on his bed, for five minutes he didn’t speak. Simply keeping that arrogant façade, that vicious glare right at her. Then, after another five minutes of nail biting silence, in which Clarke shifted, fixing her towel, he spoke.

“Jake was a big part of the operations,” her breath hitched at the sound of her father’s name but if he noticed, Bellamy didn’t say a thing, just continued, “We knew about the Grounders for a long time. Those who didn’t let themselves be tricked by the council, those who had lived to see the wall go up, knew the truth. Your father was one of them.”

“He believed that this world can’t be separated between us and them. It would only lead to worse living conditions, a life filled with rules that were hard to live by, punishments even harder to endure,” there was a gruffness in his voice that came from tiredness, but as he explained she knew it was something else, “Jake and Marcus devised a plan, with the help of all those around them who trusted the same cause, they were able to gather enough information on the council. The longer we stay apart; the worse life will be for Arkadia.” 

“So it’s his idea to go to war?”

“No.” 

“But you just said—” 

“He wasn’t the one who initiated it. If there was another option, he would have taken it.” 

“All along, you knew? You knew they would bomb us; you knew they would kill Wells?”

“Of course not. You think I wouldn’t have prepared us if I knew? I wouldn’t have warned you?” 

“Explain it to me then!” she was caught between confusion, and anger, and pain so fucking strong it broke her more and more each time she sucked in a breath.

“It was Arkadia’s plan. Think about it Griffin,” he said, “They kill your father the minute he mentions them, they dropped a bomb wanting to end them, and then they killed their own just to keep their citizens useless, brainless puppets.”

His words hit too close to the inner torment she was battling seconds before intruding his space. “Funny, were you not doing the same with me?”

Hurt flashed through his eyes then, just as quickly, vanished.

“I won’t apologize for not telling you about this.” 

She figured as much. Not letting it go she narrowed her brows, “Fine, then how about apologize for giving me shit the first month I was here, where I practically swore on my father himself that my being here wasn’t a ploy to gut you? Or for your never ending hurtful words? Or for using me to get Lexa and Luna and whoever else to participate in this game.”

Ringing true, silence covered them once more. Both blazing eyes, angry threats and staggering gulps of air coming out of them. The balcony doors were still opened, she bit back the thought that the entire Dropship must have heard them.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

She froze, shocked that those words were actually in his vocabulary. His face was blank, as always. She saw it though; she saw his apology within those glowing brown spheres.

“Not as satisfying as I thought it would be.”

It elicited a hint of a smile from him.

“If my dad was a part of this, then what about my mom?” 

Bellamy shrugged, peeling himself off the wall. The thoughts coaxed her once more but as the rebel leader came nearer she found herself focusing on all those places she hit him. 

“He never spoke of her, only of you.”

“You knew him?” 

A brief flash of teeth, and a slow nod, “Yeah, I did. Wouldn’t shut up about his bratty daughter though,” 

Clarke scoffed, “Looks like you need another punch or two.”

“After Kane left, we met twice. Once to discuss the plan, and once to complete it.”

“So both sides were plotting against the other?”

“Basically, except for the Grounders. Lexa is driven by revenge, wanting justice for the generations past.”

Clarke peered up at him from beneath her lashes, he was an arm’s length away, towering over her, “And you’re not?”

He was watching her now, that same intent way he always does. This time around, it held something softer, something that bordered vulnerability she was accustomed to. 

“No, Princess,” he started, taking slow deliberate steps closer to her, “I’m only driven by two things. Keeping my sister safe, and getting as far away from this place as possible. If fighting in this war will get me there, then so be it.”

“I told you to cut the bullshit Blake. Why spend all your time here, saving innocent children, plotting a revolution if you’re truly the selfish bastard we both know you like to play?” 

“Now that you know _the truth_ ,” he mocked, “Get out.”

“That’s not even half of what you owe me.”

“You got way more than what you were ever going to get.”

The tension between them was thick again. Was it ever not? His calves now touching her knees, she felt the sadness seep into her, deeper and deeper. 

“My best friend is dead,” she whispered.

“I know.” 

A comforting stillness laid between them. His presence, much to her dismay, was calming. A part of her questioned her true motive to seek him out. In her heart she knew her father was involved in a lot more than what Bellamy told her.

He had plotted an entire revolution, a rebellion with Marcus Kane and Bellamy Blake. He was definitely the kind of man who would put an entire civilization before himself. A part of her soul shrieked as she recalled what she’d done.

Although, she can’t deny taking those steps, her bare feet slamming against the cold concrete of the ground leading her to him, she wanted to be around him. Wanted to grieve in his presence. Since coming here he was the only one who didn’t think of her as the scared, weak little girl from the horrible place that took away their freedom.

Even when he did bring her along with him to advance his own plans, he let her be her own person. She had a choice of whether to come or not in the first place. She spoke freely to Luna. Everything was on her own accord.

He never limited her abilities. The day the bombs were coming down, he let her lead them to safety with Finn, let her defy him. Despite his constant accusations of where her loyalties lie, he let her be.

This man standing in front of her, the one who her best friend would have without a shred of doubt teased her about then proceed to discuss strategies with, was something else entirely.

“He would have liked you,” she tried but failed at giving him a soft smile. The pain of losing Wells still incredibly fresh. It was only two hours ago she learned that there was no one else that would understand her like he had. No one who knew their inside jokes, who shared with her parts of them they were afraid to show others.

A sound came from his throat, a mix of a scoff and a chuckle, “I made his best friend cry, and I’m out to kill his father.”

“I would never cry over you.”

“You’re right. You’d just throw a temper tantrum in nothing but a towel.”

“As if,” leaning her head back in time to catch the twitch in his cheek.

“You climbed up the stairs like this?” 

Clarke bit her lip, and the hunger zoomed past his eyes again. She nodded, and a curse flew out his lips. He shook his head, but this time it wasn’t in anything other than amusement. 

Taking a seat next to her, a thin line of space between them he said, “Wells told you that if I use the power I have for good, I could make a difference, right?”

Clarke willed herself with everything in her not to let her shock show. She had said that once to him, after her first trip to Polis. It felt like a lifetime ago. She really couldn’t believe he remembered.

Sensing he was about to comment on it, she hurriedly said, “So my dad planned an uprising to save us all?” 

As she spoke the words, they sounded even stupider. True, she didn’t want to talk about Wells right now, the tears ticking her eyelids as a warning, but the ramming in her ribcage was from a lot more.

Still, she gave him a questioning look but he sighed, rubbing his large hand across the side of his face.

Along his jawline, just under the bruise he was sporting from Derrick was a new forming purple blotch that she was responsible for. She felt bad, however, not enough to take it back. She had a feeling he knew as much as he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes darting straight head. 

“And he died before he could execute it,” she said lowly, full of sorrow.

Bellamy’s eyes shot to hers, “He died _to_ execute it.”

\---

 

Kids of all ages and sizes gathered around. 

Clarke couldn’t believe there were really this many of them. She was really so arrogant, so unbelievably caught up in this whirlwind of information that she neglected to see there were a lot more people facilitating the Dropship.

At first, she believed there were only few adolescents, even fewer kids. Maybe there were. Looking at them now, knowing what was coming, where it would hit them and how fast it’ll destroy their world, it felt like there were too many kids, too many people ready for the kill.

The main floor of the Dropship fit them all, nonetheless. Bright lights, the metal staircase to the right, the coolness seeping in from the weather outside, it was all to reminiscence of her very first time here.

Knowing what was coming, she pretending to be as confused and lost as the rest of them. Not wanting to think, worry or even acknowledge the little facts was becoming a habit. Hence, not realizing how many innocents actually lived with her.

She had rushed out of Bellamy’s room. Before that however, it felt like the entire weight of the universe collapsed on her. His hand reached out to her but she shifted, tips of her hair dry, and face drained.

Fully clothed in her usual attire, she recalled how impulsive she was being. From the minute she had returned to Arkadian soil, she was running. From one room to another, she sprinted desperate to leave her thoughts lurking behind.

Even she knew it was getting old. She couldn’t help it though.

Jake Griffin had died on purpose. He might as well have walked into the room filled with council members with their shifty judging eyes and firm olden traditions and admitted the truth about the Grounders. 

He sparked the revolution with his own death. He sacrificed himself so that she, others like her could live in a world where there’s nothing but air between them. 

The worst part…she had helped him.

Did Bellamy know her dad was going to do that? 

Bile rose once again, almost like emptying out her stomach ten minutes ago in her room wasn’t enough. She hadn’t even eaten anything since their journey back from Luna. Some logical sense, the infamous part of her told her to be proud of her father. That he is the kind of man, the kind of human being to have such hope, such dreams for a society so undeserving.

Even Monty would confirm that it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

This world does not deserve a man like him. She did not deserve a father like him. If Clarke could die in this second, it would be too soon.

All the things she’d learned, in one day.

It wasn’t the time for this.

No, she could dwell and promise to never cry again. She could recalculate and go over everything in her mind later. Because right now, she knew what was coming. And right now, she wasn’t about to play pretend. 

Clarke stood tall. 

When the leader of Skicru walked up to the front, standing on one of the tables with Nathan Miller and John Murphy on either side of him, she awaited his earth shaking deep voice to guide them.

“This war is coming faster than we thought,” his bluntness around the kids went unnoticed, as they themselves knew about war and fighting and pain. Fucking hell.

“This is our home, it will always be our home, but we have to leave. No one stays behind.”

“Where would we go?” a distant voice in the crowd called out.

“You’ll know soon enough. For now, we need to get to safety. Meet back here in an hour. Heads,” Bellamy called to all responsible persons who are in charge of the various functions and skyboxes above, “Get your group ready to go. We do a head check before we leave.”

A wave of shouts and questions chorused through.

“Shut the fuck up!” Murphy sneered at them. And like that, they silenced. 

“Move. Now.” Bellamy growled eyes scanning over them. 

Clarke turned her head to the crowd on every side of her. Some were slow, and some ran for the hills as they all returned to their respective areas getting ready for their departure. She caught Finn’s eye over a redhead’s shoulder, he gave a grim nod, backing away as well.

Realizing that Finn was the only Skicru member she recognized, she subtly looked over her shoulder in search of the sassy Latina, or the two dorks, or even the fierce brunette with oceanic eyes. Not a single soul made an appearance.

She turned back around, only to meet three pairs of deep brown eyes.

 


	15. Chapter 15

14.

 

 

The ground was mucky and slick against their boots.

 

Skicru was knee deep in the woods. Trees loomed over them as the various members of Alpha Squad led the teams of smaller groups through the treacherous path with little to no light.

 

Clarke Griffin watched in silence. She stepped alongside the rest of her group members, carefully inspecting the trees, occasionally glancing up at the stars that were gazing back down on them from up above, wondering what a large group of boys and girls are doing trampling the grass and dirt so late at night.

 

As tempting as it was to join Raven and Octavia and their group, led by Bellamy, she thought of a hundred other people she would have preferred to accompany rather than be stuck with the bearer of all secrets and lies.

 

Turns out, her mother wasn’t as bad as Clarke had made her out to be. Compared to this bunch, she might as well have been a saint.

 

Truly, ever so truly, Clarke didn’t want to be angry anymore. It was taking up most of her energy. Energy she needed if she wanted to outrun this devastating fate.

 

She didn’t even want to think anymore. It was the fragments in between, that awkward but hopeful time when you feel like things are beginning to click into place that you realize you picked up the wrong piece to a completely separate puzzle. Where before nothing made sense to her, now everything made sense in a way she wasn’t ready for.

 

Her father had died. Three months ago.

 

He sacrificed himself to start a revolution. He was a part of Skicru, if not a leader himself. Aiding in giving them information. Planning a rebellion.

 

He was friends with Marcus Kane. A man that was repeated into their brains to fear.

 

The words had crashed into Clarke. So fast and so hard she was surprised, and thankful, she didn’t plummet down the staircase running back to her room for that safety and comfort she never got it.

 

It took her hours before her eyelids finally shut and welcomed the deep slumber she had been craving since before her trip to Luna’s rig. Unfortunately, she only managed a thirty minute nap before being hauled up and away to the main floor where she and the innocents around her were told they had to run, to flee their home and disappear farther away than they had ever been. Far beyond the wall, far beyond their little illusion of peace and wellbeing.

 

Here they all were now, trekking in between the long trees, the branches out at odd angles, the leaves dangling low enough to graze her cheeks, she didn’t want to let her mind move. She was not going to get caught up in the details. She was not going to think about Skicru, or how many others had known about her father’s appearance and contribution to the “cause”. She was not going to think of all the moments where Bellamy gave her shit, or Raven gave her sympathetic eyes but never once told her about how her own blood dripped for revenge, or how every fucking thing in her world had just burst into roaring flames too big to put out.

 

No, she was not going to lose herself to herself.

 

Not like this. Not ever again.

 

She would put on a face. She would be brave. She would make whatever crazy shit that happened before her time, worth it. Even if it wasn’t.  Even if Lexa is bloodthirsty for avenging her mother who was merely a victim. Her uncle, she never met. And her grandmother who was the sole purpose of their fight. A fight for life that was lacking. A fight for people who suffered at the hands of others who paved into their souls’ morals and traditions that shouldn’t exist. That have no real value compared to human life.

 

The pitter-patter of footsteps coming nearer pulled her out of her trance. Not having to look to see who it is, she held her shoulders up high, and put on that face.

 

“Clarke,” Monty’s gentle tone was like a knife through the throat. Still, her face remained motionless, she kept her stare before her at Harper’s bouncing ponytail as she navigated the area, watching for suspicions up ahead.

 

“I’m sorry about Wells,” Monty started up again, “He was your best friend, right?” he paused awaiting a response that would never come, “Uh well,” he stammered bringing a hand to the back of his neck, he rubbed his skin slowly, “I can’t imagine ever losing Jasper, so I’m sorry.”

 

Clarke pushed back the saliva collecting in her mouth. She did feel bad for ignoring him, she felt even worse when he gave her his sympathy, but it didn’t change the facts. And Clarke, well, she was all about the facts.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

It was barely an audible response, and Monty, being the genius that he is, sensed something off long before he approached her. But, like the kind friend he is, he put his neck on the line. She didn’t deserve him.

 

Dodging any of his attempts to dissect her, Clarke pushed past, jogging lightly to reach Harper and lose herself in some meaningless small talk until they reached their unknown, mysterious destination.

 

“How much longer?” one of the sixteen-year-old girls with silver wild curls asked, pressing her palm to her thighs, heaving for air.

 

Besides Alpha Squad, no one was in shape to walk for an extended period of time. So, it took them about four hours to walk ten miles, not including breaks. It was what was expected really. These people haven’t had to fight for their survival other than before they were transported to The Dropship.

 

Clarke’s heart sank at the thought of that lone warehouse left behind. From where she stood, she knew it was extremely beyond the horizon. Lingering a couple miles south of the wall, a place she felt safe in. Despite the fact that none of her ‘friends’ bothered to mention the secret that now clawed at her feet.

 

“A long way,” Harper replied coolly. She proceeded to take calculated steps, head still up high, like a hunter in the night.

 

They surfaced into a clear outing. Much smaller, and with the groups coming out from all directions, it felt like having smog and smoke cluster in her lungs.

 

The members in their group included mostly young preteens, and considering it is Skicru, there weren’t very many of them. Yet, they all held their own, and hearing Harpers words, they all groaned in unison before scattering across the smaller glade where all the other groups were now emerging.

 

“Where are we going again?” The sixteen-year-old asked once more, lingering beside Clarke. Her hair was unique. Clarke knew it couldn’t have been natural, which meant that she must have dyed it.

 

How much supplies, materials, knowledge did Skicru have if they can manage to smuggle some hair dye for a bunch of giggly girls?

 

How much power were they hiding beneath compared to the power Jaha is gloating in?

 

Harper gave them both a firm closed lip smile and if Clarke kept her eyes on Harper for a second long she would have seen her dirty blonde hair sway as she shrugged her shoulders in oblivion.

 

Except Clarke’s blue eyes were somewhere else. On someone else.

 

Across the glade, illuminated by the torch of fire he was holding was the rebellious leader and his ever so charming smirk. As he barked orders, with Roma lingering around him basically feeding on his every word, he was in his element.

 

She had seen him compel a crowd before. She’s pretty sure he’s compelled her a couple of times too, just by the echo in his voice and the way he directed each word at her, for her. Like it all mattered. Like she was what made it matter.

 

How stupid was she to believe that? He’s used that tone, that deep baritone that shook her spine senseless to others, he made them feel just as wanted. Then made them regret their will to live seconds after.

 

His eyes met hers. In the darkness, with the tiniest sparkles above them, his eyes found hers and if she wasn’t so pissed, if she didn’t feel so betrayed, she might have gone into shock at how hard her heart skipped that beat.

 

“Hey, we set up here. Start a fire.” Harper called out to her group.

 

Peeking over her shoulder, Clarke noticed how the small glade couldn’t accommodate all of Skicru. Some groups hung further in, by the trees, while others couldn’t actually be seen.

 

In her bones, deep in her bones, Clarke recalled how she always had a feeling something terrible was waiting in the shadows. She sensed it the day they came for her father, she sensed it the day Jaha passed the rule of no more than two food portions per week, per family.

 

Yet, somehow she hadn’t sensed the bombs, or Wells death, or the war coming.

 

Somehow, in the last three seconds, deep in her bones, she sensed something. Maybe the worst of it all. Maybe not even close to the worst of it all.

 

Strong senses evaded her. Closing in slowly and slowly making her realize the one solid piece of truth.

 

She sensed her unbecoming.

 

\---

 

_“What does it even matter?”_

_His head shot up in surprise, and she fought back the ever growing smile she always had when she knew the right buttons to push._

_“What does it even—” he cut himself off with a scoff and a slight shake of the head causing a flutter of giggles to erupt from the pit of her stomach all the way to her head. Brain on overload of excitement and eagerness to learn, she fixed her shoulders and gave a playful glare._

_Her father had been working on some kind of device, or something… she wasn’t really sure. He was explaining the way certain mechanics work when she felt the boredom fill her up. She spent all day tinkering with his tools, wondering when he’ll finish so they can finally, finally, go outside. Either to sit by the garden her mother worked tirelessly on, or to walk around City Hall with Wells._

_“The lake is looking really pretty. I’m trying to make the blue lagoon colour with my paints but it’s always either too green—”_

_“Or too blue.” He finished off with a knowing smile._

_Biting her lip, she asked, “I’ve told you this before?”_

_“A thousand times.”_

_“Well then maybe we should get me some new paint,”_

_A contagious curve of the lip greeted her. And she fought, so hard to keep her annoyed façade up, but to no avail._

_“Ok, fine.” She sighed in defeat, walking over to the other side of the room where the door was wide open, awaiting her departure._

_Last second, just before she exited the threshold, she turned on the spot and took another good look at what her father was building._

_“What is that thing again?”_

_Jake Griffin paused. There was a debate going on in his head. She knew because her eyes moved the same way when she was trying to decide something, trying to figure out if she should follow her gut or not._

_Something flicker in his blue eyes. The blue eyes he gave her._

_“It’s a special device,” he began and when she rolled her eyes, he chuckled, “Easy now, it’s not just any device. It’s…” he trailed off._

_Bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose, it was Clarke’s turn to pause. She knew her father only did that when he was truly in distraught about something._

_“It’s something that will help us, help all of us.”_

_“What does it do?”_

_“It’s not about what it does Clarke, it’s about what it represents.”_

A cool shudder whipped past Clarke’s loose curls, bringing her out of her slumber and pulling her away from the hazy image of her father. She kept her eyes closed a moment longer, wishing that the dream would return, that the memory will replay as if it never stopped.

 

She felt something heavy drop on her. The coldness disappeared, but the scent of cigarettes, mahogany wood, and something else she knew all too well invaded her nostrils.

 

Her eyes flickered open, finding him in an instant.

 

“You didn’t have to…” she started, gesturing to his jacket that now covered her like a blanket, except that he was already walking away. His silhouette getting further away until the image of his broad back stretching the thin t-shirt that was fraying and flapping gently against the icy breeze was locked in her mind.

 

Clarke scanned her surroundings. In the far side Jasper, Finn, and Monty sat in a half circle, facing towards her but their heads were low, deep in conversation. Past them Raven and Wick had worried looks etched on their faces, and if she wasn’t so hazy with sleep she would’ve thought Raven, fiery and fierce Raven, was about to shed a tear.

 

It’s really in these moments that she realized how easy it is to forget who they are. They had travelled all day, escaping their home, the place they grew up and got to know so well because of a fight that happened long before they took their first breath. One by one, they took turns saying goodbye. One by one they let the fear of what would happen next sink in and eat away at them.

 

Had her father known this?

 

When he took his life to spare hers? Or when she did what she had to in order to save him, did he know?

 

Did he know he left his eighteen-year-old daughter, with enough demons to scare away the average man, an impossible battle to fight? A war that wasn’t hers?

 

She wanted to be mad at him. Jake Griffin was the embodiment of goodness. She fucking hated it. In fact, she hated it so much, she was beginning to hate herself for praising it all those years ago.

 

Kindness, in its simplest form, is a lie. It’s a person’s ability to make you believe this fantasized beauty that you can’t really see or grasp but you know is there. Because how could someone so nice, so sweet, have a full, big, heart hold onto the darkest and scariest secrets of the world?

 

Like smoke, in that old farmhouse, in her haunting nightmares, and now playing in the wind around her, it was suffocating.

 

They’re all going to die in a matter of days.

 

Lexa and her clans are preparing their blood for the spilling, Arkadia is preparing to spill said blood, and Bellamy Blake is finally running away like the

 

“Coward you are,” a sneer made the blonde hairs on the back of her neck rise.

 

“What?”

 

Murphy made a scoff like sound at the back of his throat before coming around until they were facing each other, almost facing each other. She had to peer upwards slightly as he loomed over her.

 

“Got all the beauty sleep you needed, Princess?” he mocked, snarky grin never leaving his face.

 

“What were you saying before?” she asked him, ignoring his stupid jab.

 

He raised an eyebrow, his crooked nose seeming suddenly straight before jerking a thumb over his shoulder, “I was telling those idiots to stop scaring the kids.”

 

“Didn’t know you had such a maternal instinct.” A dry chuckle, on her part. It was met with a sly grin and hooded eyes.

 

“We wouldn’t even be here anyway if it wasn’t for you.”

 

“What the hell are you talking about Murphy?”

 

This time, he gave the humorless disturbing chuckle that made her entire body stand on edge, “The princess says jump and the king asks how high?”

 

She bit back the urge to ram his dirty brown mop of hair right against the tree bark calling out to her. She knew who he meant, she didn’t however know what he meant.

 

“I don’t understand whatever it is you’re going on about, but I had nothing to do with this. In case you haven’t notice, the king says jump and you guys try to beat each other out on who jumped the highest. Surprised you’re not sucking his dick yet Murphy.”

 

If this conversation wasn’t doing it, then the bubbling rage was definitely spurring up to the surface because of the lanky boy’s calm and collected exterior front that Clarke was beginning to notice as not a front at all.

 

Her words didn’t effect Murphy. Not the way she wanted them to. It made her wonder just how much this guy had suffered in his lifetime.

 

He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in amusement, his eyes mirroring that of a Cheshire cat she read about in an old book. If she remembered correctly it was still hidden between her bedframe and the wall. She used to read it all the time as a child.

 

“In case you haven’t notice, the king only said jump because the princess said it first.”

 

“You really think Bellamy would ever do what I say? Or what I wanted? If that’s the _case_ ,” she shot him a threatening look, “then he would have listened to me when I told him we should just get Lexa and the council together, form some kind of treaty and be done with it.”

 

“You’re an idiot if you think a treaty would have done shit.”

 

“Thanks Murphy.”

 

“Seriously Clarke, even you had to know that they were planning this for a long time. Arkadia cares about no one, not even its own fucking citizens. They care about themselves, your mother cares about herself.”

 

He was touching dangerous territory. At this point, it didn’t matter. Both her parents weren’t who they said they were. She should have known better than to trust it, to trust them.

 

“I know. It still doesn’t mean that I caused this,” she gestured around absently to the members of Skicru all around her. They were falling in and out of sleep, falling in and out of conversations, and slowly, ever so slowly, forgetting they had fears only to be reminded by the wilderness around them, and the stars up high calling out war cries, and silent warnings.

 

When Murphy let out a laugh this time, it wasn’t dry or cold. It was full of wonder and genuine glee. Another shiver ran up her spine, if she was being honest, this was way worse than snarky, hurtful and rude Murphy.

 

“You seriously,” his laugh echoed in the distance, turning every conscious head over to them, “you’ll figure it out, Princess.” He huffed out after finally catching his breath. He eyed the thick material in her lap, scrutinizing just enough to make her cheeks heat up.

She sat quietly for a second. Inhaling that scent of mahogany, wood, and something else that made her heart stutter, she took a final glance up at the scrawny, rebellious, yet so misunderstood boy in front of her.

 

“How’d you figure it out?” she asked in a voice just above a whisper.

 

“Who do you think told me to stay behind on Grationem Dan to make sure you got to Polis okay in case you changed your mind?”

 

Like that, he walked away.

 

Knowing how dangerous her question was before she asked it was one thing. She didn’t consider how dangerous his response would be. Those words tossed and turned in her mind. They tasted sweet, like honey and she wanted to indulge in it. Then just as soon, she’d remember how easy it was to lie to her. To her face. About everything. About knowing who her father was, what he had done, why he had done it.

 

He kept it all from her. And even when she felt her lowest, her weakest, the secrets were still kept under lock and key, far away from her.

 

She couldn’t forgive that.

 

Her actions betrayed her thoughts when she found herself tugging the warm coat closer to her chest. She clutched it tightly right over her heart, shaking her head at her foolishness, she got up and stretched her legs.

 

Vaguely recalling the direction that strong silhouette took, she followed with fox-like ease and quietness, curving with the trail as it bent and broke between a cluster of fallen branches, bushes and tree stumps.

 

The spider-web like vision of the brown bark branches interlacing blocked her view, and with the dark night surrounding her and lack of fire lighting up the path, she felt an uneasiness fluttering into her soul. She was just about to take another step when a firm grasp on her wrist snatched her close, pressing her up the wooden pricks that pierced into the skin covering her spine.

 

“Octavia?” she whisper-yelled, half in confusion, half in pain.

 

“Shh,” the brunette hushed placing her palm against Clarke’s mouth and jerking her head in the direction of muffled voices.

 

_What the hell is going on?_ Clarke thought angrily. She would have voiced it too if there wasn’t a hand smothering her lips, or intruders frolicking about in the woods.

 

“Follow me, stay down, and for the love of God shut up.”

 

The brassiness wasn’t appreciated, and Clarke was slightly shocked at how Octavia was behaving. If she thought about it, Octavia hasn’t spoken to her in days, possibly weeks. The last positive, remotely pleasant, interaction was that night laying on her bed staring up at the ceiling and wondering how they ended up here. Raven’s bitter retorts still vivid in her mind.

 

Like the feeling of being wanted, which just as quickly disappeared for the aftermath of that conversation that was followed by a deceitful event that played at the hands of her best friend’s death, she was starting to question more than just disloyalty.

 

Silently, she nodded and pressed her lips together when Octavia’s fingers released her. They took careful steps in the direction of the deep voices, Clarke figured it was two males, and she was willing to bet anything that it was the older Blake talking to the younger Blake’s boyfriend.

 

Gently, ever so gently, the two girls crouched down. Shifting away a couple of fallen leaves, they peered at the two men from behind the cluster of bushes, branches, and darkness.

 

“…through thick and thin, you need to know that.” She was able to catch the last of Lincoln’s words as he strutted forward with such purpose that she felt instantly envious.

 

Not wanting her brain to move faster than her heart, she stopped herself from wondering what it would be like if she carried herself with such determination. She always believed she was that kind of empowered, and powerful woman. These days, it seems like the world is pushing her so far down that laughing at her little misconception wouldn’t come close to describing her misery.

 

No, she needed something far worse than laughter at her pain.

 

She needed a fucking war that is going to wipe out an innocent civilization and corrupt the place she grew up in further than it already is.

 

To abuse power, she smirked to her inner self, to abuse power that shouldn’t have ever be theirs.

 

“Why?” came the thick, laced with so much grief and tiredness, voice.

 

Lincoln looked Bellamy dead on, fingers clenched tight forming fists, he said so clearly, so crisp, “Because I love her.”

 

Bellamy didn’t look the slightest bit surprised. Giving one swift nod, he tucked his fingers into his pockets and sat down on the abandoned, wide, log where the grass blades were crushed by the black boots he wore, and the midnight blue blanket above him shined brighter than ever before.

 

“But you already knew that,” Lincoln claimed. When Bellamy shrugged his shoulders, Lincoln stepped closer until he too was sitting on the other side of the log, leaving a respectful distance between himself, and his, no doubt, future brother-in-law. If they ever made it out of this alive.

 

“Doesn’t matter what I know.” He paused. Then, as if the sky was suddenly on fire, his gaze lifted up. The column of his throat, tan and glistening with sweat, was all Clarke could see. She didn’t bother look at what captured his attention. Right now, he was in control of hers.

 

“Octavia knows how I feel, she’s always known.” Lincoln admitted softly. Clarke gave in to the urge that tugged at her to look to the side, at the girl a few breaths away from her.

 

What she saw almost brought tears to her eyes. The young girl, who all her life knew not a single soul other than her mother and brother, was now fighting back a giant grin as watery eyes were appearing.

 

“I held the door open.” Bellamy said. Looks of confusion met him, both from the hidden girls and the muscular man at his side. Lincoln waited patiently for the rebel leader to elaborate. A beat later, he continued, “Whenever there was a surprise inspection, which weren’t much of a surprise because our mother knew every single time one was due, I held the door open to the cellar where she crouched down, and hid from them.”

 

“All her life, it wasn’t measured by time, or age, or anything more than the minutes between the last inspection and the next one.” He sighed deeply, his gaze still fixed on a spot in the sky.

 

Lincoln parted his lips, ready to say something but maybe thought better of it, because he shut them tightly. Probably trying hard not to imagine the girl he loved so isolated and scared.

 

Clarke’s own mouth opened. Her breathing became hitched and she felt terribly for every person wronged by the devilish ruler.

 

Bellamy removed one hand from his pocket, bringing those lean fingers up and over his face, rubbing at the pain and exhaustion that latched at him.

 

“She deserves someone who will treat her better. Someone who wouldn’t hold open the door, but keep it closed and tell those fuckers to go to hell.”

 

“You all would have died,” Lincoln tried arguing but Bellamy’s next words didn’t only hit the three eagerly listening lost souls, but managed to elicit a gasp from his sister as well.

 

“Would’ve been better than this life right here.”

 

The two men now stared at each other. One of them wondering how someone could have such thoughts but seeming to understand completely, and the other looking so torn she wanted to go over there, with his sister in tow and tell him he’s being stupid.

 

Even if she felt that way sometimes. Even if she hoped for that same thing most times. It didn’t matter. Because these people relied on him. If he had spoken up all those years ago, if he had died. Then they would have never come close to this.

 

It hit her. Like a shit ton of bricks. They weren’t running away. Bellamy Blake would never cower away like she always did. She didn’t know where they were going, not exactly but she had an idea.

 

“Fall down,” Lincoln’s husky voice was so much deeper now. He carried such strength in it, provoking his companion to listen.

 

“Get back up.”

 

Clarke heard it twice. Once from the guy across her view, and the other, a soft breathy whisper right by her neck. Their simultaneous response echoed in her mind, all through the night.

 

“Get back up,” Lincoln nodded encouragingly. A small smirk trickling at the corner of Bellamy’s lip gripped her.

 

She turned to Octavia, watching that same smirk smile appear on her face. She brushed her head lower, and in a small voice asked, “Why do I get the feeling you do this often?”

 

“Not often,” Octavia answered back, “Just enough times where I have indestructible confidence that the man I love, loves me.”

 

A smile threatened its way across Clarke’s lips. She had enough power and wits to push it back down.

 

“Bellamy’s guilt filled tales are a rare occurrence,” she admitted softly. “I hated it. So fucking much. Watching him run off to school, or work, or talk to his friends when they called the house. I never knew he hated it just as much.”

 

“He didn’t hate it,” Clarke started, “He hated what it made him do.”

Octavia’s face broke her heart. This was the same reason why she didn’t want to get too close, know too much. But it was too late now.

 

“I know he loves me, but what I caused, I wouldn’t forgive that.”

 

“You did nothing. You were a victim of a stupid fucking rule that governed our entire being. Jaha was selfish and crude, it was never about enough food rations. We had technology for fucks sake. It was a rule made up long ago, a rule that carried enough strength and power to manifest example after example to prove his worth.”

 

“So I was just a ploy in his fucked up game. A way to show he’s in charge?”

 

Clarke’s whisper was greeted by a thick rush of air. “We all were.”

 

Where it was picking up pieces to the wrong puzzle before, it was now making her own puzzle up with whatever pieces she managed to scavenge.

 

If it wasn’t clear all those weeks ago, Jaha had to die. Not before he suffered like he made them all suffer.

 

“Are you going to tell her?” Lincoln’s voice brought them back.

 

“No.”

 

“She needs to know.”

 

“That’s what they keep telling me,” Bellamy’s tone was dry. Clarke had a feeling Octavia wasn’t the topic of discussion anymore.

 

“You do realize that the longer you go without telling her, the harder it will be to win this was?”

 

Bellamy remained silent.

 

“You came all this way for her, why?”

 

“I didn’t do this for her, I did this for them.”

 

“Could’ve fooled me.”

 

“You’re starting to sound like Murphy,” Bellamy grunted in disapproval.

 

Lincoln sighed, “Maybe the idiot knows a lot more than you give him credit for.”

 

“She just lost her best friend and found out her father was a founding member of Skicru. This could kill her.”

She bit back the sharp gasp that would have escaped. If either of those two caught them, they would be done for. Not to mention the obscure amount of embarrassment it would cause all four of them.

 

Nevertheless, they were talking about her.

 

“I thought you could care less about what happens to her.”

 

Clarke tried to ignore the blow of pain that rammed into her. She still had a weird sense that there was something more in the Grounders voice, something that moved Clarke in a completely different frame of mind.

 

“Unless you do?” Lincoln’s question held more comfort and genuine curiosity then it did teasing and mocking.

 

Brown eyes shifted in her direction. She held her breath, scared and wondering if he spotted her through torn greeneries, and broken twigs. Ignoring that feeling and the aquatic eyes burning a hole into the side of her head. She remained motionless, listening carefully to his next words.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he finally said after a long pause.

 

“The longer you think that Blake,” Lincoln got up from his spot, “the more you’ll lose your way.”

 

That being the final goodbye, Lincoln walked away at a leisurely pace. Like he knew he was being watched. Like he knew his girlfriend and the girl who may have caused this entire mess were watching him.

 

Octavia shuffled up from her crouched position too. Stretching her legs and cracking her knees, she gave Clarke a we’re-so-talking-about-this-later look and took to following the man who loved her, the man she loved.

 

A stunned silence stretched far and wide. Clarke didn’t realize how long she still hid there until her thighs moaned in pained, and a jolt of panic rushed through her.

 

She had always known that there was so much more she truly didn’t know. Leaving her in the dark like that was Bellamy’s favourite pastime. He did seem a little apprehensive, a little unsure if not telling her was the best thing to do.

 

Quickly and as quietly as she could, she slowly reached her full height and took a single step back before a tremor of terror awakened her veins.

 

“You stayed longer than I expected.” Was his only response. She froze in place.

 

Slightly hoping that he saw wrong, or worse, that he couldn’t see her from behind the veil of green.

 

He did. As clear as anyone could in complete darkness.

 

“Nasty habit,” he bit out with a mock shake of the head. She bit her tongue, her lip, the inside of her cheek before finally emerging from her hiding spot. It all felt too familiar.

 

“Maybe if you tried talking _to_ people, you know? Instead of keeping shit to yourself, you wouldn’t have this many eavesdroppers.”

 

“I spotted you way before I saw Octavia huddled down there. And I lived with her for fourteen years.” _Before she got caught_ , she finished his unspoken thought.

 

Coming into the clear, she noticed that he wasn’t even looking at her. His gaze was stalking the sky. Again. His fascination with it made her smile, almost made her smile.

 

“So you’re saying that you can find me no matter where I am?”

 

Lightening quick, his glistening brown eyes, even in the dark, flashed towards her. As solemnly as he could, he replied. “Yes.”

 

Ignoring the fire in the pit of her stomach, she shot him her best unimpressed look. Really, his one-word syllable shook her more than anything thus far.

 

“I heard everything.”

 

“I know.”

 

A pause. She was debating her next move, and he was watching her like a predator hunts his prey.

  
“You’re not telling me something,” just before he can say anything she added, “I don’t care. You don’t need to tell me Blake, but you need to realize that Lincoln was right. The longer you shut me out, the more you’ll lose.”

 

“Funny, Griffin. Could’ve sworn you’ve been shutting all of us out since the day you arrived.” A smug smirk decorated his pink lips. She took a tentative step in his direction, noticing as his body went ridged. When his eyes recognized the jacket wrapped around her, they became glazed with explosive emotions.

 

If he knew what her next move was he didn’t call her out on it.

 

“Maybe.” She nodded. “I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought that staying away was going to make it easier when this all ends.” 

 

She admitted this with less remorse than she initially thought. It was time to take a different approach. He never opened up, but yet, she felt comfortable telling him anything. It scared her more than she wanted to let him know.

 

So she would follow her gut. She would trust him one more time. And this time, she would get him to finally trust her back. No matter what.

 

“I came to you to help, yes. But I had so much more in mind. All my life, I was told no. With everything. Then days before my father’s death, I heard him and my mom arguing about what he found. I mean, now I know that it was all a scheme, I’m also almost positive he hadn’t meant for me to find out but I know his words were directed at me.” It was her turn to shift her stare at the world above, and for his to sink daggers into her flesh.

 

“He said, ‘This needs to be done, Abby. For the world to be its truest form.’ I wondered what form he was talking about. The true form of natural instinct and power hungry bastards, or the form where good always defeats evil.” A loud exhale was released, and she felt like drowning.

 

Bellamy stayed silent. Indirectly prompting her to continue. She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eyes, and it was enough encouragement to continue.

 

“I thought peace and a treaty was the answer but it wasn’t. I was ignorant,” her speech was met with a scoff, “I was lost in a fantasy world. I thought war wasn’t the answer but it was. Except, it’s not a war for power. In some twisted, sick way, possibly the old ways of our ancestors who ruined the earth before us, this war is peace. For peace.”

 

He remained locked on her. Watching with a softness she was worried will fade, but knowing she had to say these next words, she wafted away his stare and took the plunge.

 

“If you had told me about my father, I could’ve savaged whatever memories I had of him, the good and the bad and maybe we could have found some answer long ago. If you had told me about the wall and its true history maybe I could have fought harder with Lexa. If you had mentioned Arkadia’s lifetime plan, then maybe I wouldn’t have wasted my time looking for peace in places it didn’t exist. Do you know what you’ve done? Do you even care?”

 

Her golden locks twirled in the gust of wind that blew. Thankfully it blew away her watery eyes that were on the brink of emptying out. She swore she wouldn’t break down again. She wouldn’t break down again. Especially for someone like him.

 

“I thought I saw something in you. I thought we could work together and that you were the last bit of hope this world has. We had a deal remember? I thought that if I trusted you enough it could show you that you can trust me too, but I just realized that you’re a joke, Blake. Always been, always will be.”

 

He was in front of her before she could even blink. His hot breath crashing against hers. A solid grip on both biceps, his forearms tightened and pulled her in so close that it nearly marked up to being a lover’s embrace.

 

“Stop talking.”

 

“Why? Because you know what I’m saying is the truth? What you think manhandling me and threatening me with that stare will get me to shut my mouth?”

 

His brows furrowed, his grip loosened, but only briefly. “I never lied to you.”

 

“You only hid shit from me.”

 

“You couldn’t handle it. How could you? Every single time someone doesn’t bow down to your feet you snap your killer jaws at their throat. You did it with Lexa, Luna and all the rest. But I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work on me.” He seethed. “For the last time, Princess, you don’t know anything.”

 

“So tell me.”

 

Maybe it was her tone, her pleading eyes, or the nonexistence space between them, but it softened up his features so much that she had a hard time tearing her gaze from the echoed sky on the hollowed out flesh of his cheeks.

 

“I’ll tell you,” it sounded like a promise but she knew better than to instantly believe him. “Under one condition.”

 

“What?”

 

“You listen to it. All of it before you go running off.”

 

“I don’t run off,” she tried but if his death grasp on her didn’t hold her in place, then the pointed look he shot her definitely did.

 

“Fine.” She agreed.

 

“Fine.” He said lowly, eyes trailing her face as hers did the same.

 

“D-does Octavia always listen in on you and Lincoln.” Clarke wanted to steer the conversation as far away from herself as she could. The intoxicating way she felt, the relief was too much.

“Yes.”

 

“And you don’t tell him?”

 

His mischievous smile sent her insides tumbling around and over themselves. “No.”

 

“Nasty habit,” she mumbled. Just like that, his smile turned genuine, she even caught a flash of teeth. It never seized to surprise her how one minute she wanted to kill him and the next she wanted… she shushed her thoughts quickly, not allowing them to elaborate.

 

“You’re wrong by the way,” he let her go. A colder gush of air hit her as he continued to take a few steps back and away from her.

 

“You’re wrong,” she argued back. Fixing his jacket from his crumpled up hold on it. He followed her movements, and the way he did caused her to just about go up in flames.

 

“I was talking about earlier,” he explained.

 

She rolled her eyes, “So was I.”

 

“The world’s truest form isn’t defeating evil, or succumbing to it. It’s more than that.” He went on, ignoring her teasing.

 

“How would you know? You told Lincoln, me, and your sister not even five minutes ago that you didn’t want any part of this world.”

 

He pressed his lips in a tight line. She ached all over, both from his words and hers.

 

“I know, because there was a time when people like you, Princess, fought for people like me.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing this, I had no clue where it would take me. There were some things I was sure of, and some things happened by a happy surprise. This section of the plot, was one I had planned from the beginning. That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> Thanks so much for such sweet comments, and kudos, and that you actually took the time to read this monster of a story...it's like 100,000 words now...what the fuck?
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it, and to those that don't, have an amazing weekend!

15.

 

It was a three-day journey.

 

A three-day walking journey from inside the walls of Arkadia to so far beyond them that Clarke had no sense of direction whatsoever.

 

The atmosphere felt different. The landscape was like something out of the oldest books buried in the depths of the Arkadian Library that required not only another person present when searching and reading the books, but also a series of complicated passphrases that allowed you to even access such books.

 

She should have known how sketchy their history was. How untrue and fabricated it was considering that a simple, paper packaged book can cause such drastic measures to be taken.

 

Before her was the image of a scene which she kept in the deepest corners of her mind. A scene she tried to replicate time and time again but could never capture it just right with her pencil crayons or even her paint sets.

 

The trees were an emerald shade of green that beamed against the sunlight, which also shinned like a crystalized glass chandelier, blinding anyone stupid enough to look directly at it. Although, with the way the rays framed her face, grazing her cheeks, and heating up her entire body from head to toe, it felt impossible not to sneak a peek.

 

The aroma was different too. It wasn’t industrial. It didn’t feel like she was suffocating anymore but like she was floating on a fragrance cloud, dipped in lilies, and lavender, and something that smelt a lot like victory. She was slightly disturbed by it. The erupting feelings it blossomed were dangerous. To know that such a place existed like this in her world was just as dangerous, and if she let herself trust it, hold on to it, well it’s not just dangerous. It’s pathetic.

 

After her conversation with Bellamy, they walked from deep inside the forest back out to the clearing where almost everyone around them was fast asleep, except for a few of Alpha Squad who were patrolling the area with blinking eyes and drowsy expressions. Her wrist a thin line away from his was lost under the oversized sleeves of his jacket. When she went to shrug it off and hand it over to him, he placed a flat palm on her right shoulder, stopping her.

 

“You’ll be cold.” She tried.

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

She didn’t have the energy to argue. With one swift acknowledgement, she turned her back to him and walked in the opposite direction where Harper was leaning against Monty’s shoulder, eyelids half open.

 

“Hey,” Clarke whispered over the heads of some of the sleeping girls, “I’ll take first watch.” She touched her knee gently.

 

Harper’s eyelids drooped shut almost immediately. Monty gave a half-assed thumbs up in thanks. Clarke bid them a hushed good night, going to find a spot herself where she could swallow up her disgust and watch over the hundred or so heads that may not live to see next week.

 

From her place between the large grey boulder, and the rosebushes without any roses, she turned over Bellamy’s words. What had he meant when he said people like her fought for people like him?

 

Chancing a glance over at him, she saw he was back to gazing up at the stars. A part of her wanted to let loose the chuckle building inside her, but the other part wanted to watch him watch the twinkling lights up high.

 

It was sad that the moon wasn’t out. The path of light sprinting out from its glory presence would have reflected the freckles on his cheeks perfectly. But it hasn’t come out in many nights actually. It probably knew what was coming.

 

Like clockwork, he directed his stare down to her. Gliding it so easily over the bodies, the trees, the dirt around him until they found hers and locked in place in a matter of seconds.

 

Blushing under his gaze, she was thankful for the blanket of black wrapped around her. It didn’t hide the terrifying questions she had though. The ones that wondered what he knew, and what would be her undoing? What would kill her?

 

After everything she’d seen thus far. There was really little that could cause any more damage to her already withered soul. Bellamy’s brown eyes were whispering to her in a way no one has ever, somehow it relieved her mind to stillness, and her stiff shoulders plummeted like a sigh.

 

Now, three sunrises later, she was surrounded by a wild world she didn’t know could exist. She felt like she had fallen down a rabbit hole into a far far away mischievous land where true beauty lied and the sense of deception was close by.

 

In other words, it was too fucking good to be true.

 

“Where the hell are we?”  Monroe asked, coming to stand right next to Clarke.

 

Harper, who was a few paces ahead of them, gave them a sharp look over her shoulder and as solemnly as she could, said the words that were their salivation.

 

“Safe.”

 

Almost like it had appeared out of thin air, an ivory white, like a fresh blanket of snow, building stood tall and proud before them. Only it wasn’t really a building. The Dropship was a building; City Hall was a building. This right here, standing in all its glory, was a castle.

 

The pillars, thick, round and white were on either side of the tower, decorated with twined vines of red, green, and orange. Windows, clear glass glistening in the sunlight, were on every single surface available to them. The roof was a shape unlike she’s ever seen before. Dodgy, pointed, and epically edgy, was tainted with red paint giving the overall feel of a modern day fairy-tale castle.

 

Gasps and sounds of approval roared among the crowd, both in front and behind her. She scanned through quickly, finding Raven, Jasper, and Octavia all looking up in awe. A gust of guilt flew through her as she relished in their bewilderment. It seemed that they haven’t seen this place before either. It felt good not to be the only one out of the loop for once.

 

“There’s something you need to know,” came the familiar bellow from the middle of the mass. Like moth to a flame they gathered around him in a circle, anxiously heeding to his next words.

 

“This place, it will keep you safe. For most of you,” he paused, glancing around at his crew, his people. “For most of you, this isn’t your fight. No matter how much you think it is, it’s not. Your fight ended long ago, the day each of you came to the Dropship, that’s when your fight was over.”

 

“What about the numbers? Arkadia has way more soldiers than we do.” A shout from the left side of Bellamy called out to him.

 

“That’s not your problem. You do not and will not take part in this war. This place will shelter you. It will shelter all the people who are refugees, and escapees of a war that’s between me and Arkadia.”

 

Clarke bit back the urge to shut him up. His ego was bursting at the seams if he thought that it was his fight alone.

 

“For those of you in Alpha Squad, and the other Squads,” he faced them in acknowledgement, “you can decide whether to join me and the Grounders in battle or to stay behind. It was never my intention to shove you into this. You were looking for a place to belong,” they locked eyes, “and the Dropship gave you that. Now you’re looking for safety, Mount Weather will give you that.”

 

A sea of murmurs echoing around her grew louder and louder until he spoke again.

 

“When the war is over, I hope that you can leave this place and live your lives as you should. If that doesn’t happen,” time stood still, “then I hope you can continue to find yourselves within those four walls. For those of you willing to fight, we leave in two days’ times to make the journey back to Polis and the twelve clans.”

 

The turmoil was running frantic as her thoughts tumbled on each other. Mount Weather Woods, she was familiar with. Mount Weather…Castle? She was not.

 

 She caught sight of Finn as if to confirm that such a place existed. His eyes were hooded under his flop of russet hair, hands shoved under his armpits, crossed at his chest.

 

Why the fuck was this place called Mount Weather?

 

Everything, large to miniscule, halted. For a split second, she even thought that the world had stopped turning. The double doors, encrusted with oak, had a deep contour of a large circle, with two circle overlapping inside of it and a smaller dot right in the center. Her blood froze while her fingers shook with apprehension.

 

She knew that symbol. She watched her father build that thing for hours when all she wanted was to sit in the garden bench with him and her mother, with only their company as her muse. A choke threatened her esophagus when the doors shuddered open and a figure walked through the darkness and into the open air.

 

 Marcus Kane.

 

No one spoke. Whether it be in shock, or fear, or both, it wasn’t known. All that she knew was, for what felt like hours, a strong silence washed over them.

 

Then, when she thought the silence couldn’t end any sooner, the bitterness that trickled was enough to shove, even her, out of her trance.

 

“We’re here. Take them in, then we discuss the rest.”

 

Marcus gave a short nod but a smile so twisted, playing on the edge of his lips parted to say, “Of course.”

 

Once Bellamy’s feet began moving, everyone else took it as an invitation and followed him stepping, carefully, exactly where he stepped.

 

If she thought the outside of this castle was glorious, she surely hadn’t seen anything yet. For the inside was much more grand, and extravagant. Jewels hung from the ceilings, diamonds edged with gold trimmings. The arches expanded from wall to wall giving off the illusion that they were in some ancient tunnel over top of a running channel. When in fact, they were nowhere near such a thing.

 

The air was thinner, sweeter. It held onto possibility like it _was_ their salivation and only it alone can achieve the unknown.

 

Again, too dangerous of a place to get used to. Too dangerous of a place to believe in.

 

The swirling howls of the wind taunted Clarke. She was the only one who could hear the cry of warning. She was the only one, it seemed, who had enough wonder to question how such a place can exist compared to the hell she grew up alongside of, and why it was so miraculously hidden all these years.

 

Working up enough of herself to speak the words out loud, she was interrupted by a welcome speech from the devil himself.

 

“As I’m sure Bellamy told you, this will be your home for the next couple of months. Or until we win this war.” He smiled brightly at each and every one of them. His swollen eyes lingered for a few beats on her dishevelled look, her unkempt hair that remained a problem, before gazing past her as if he didn’t even know she was standing there.

 

“I am Marcus Kane,” he began, only to be welcomed by silence. Those of them that knew who he was already didn’t need to comment, and those who didn’t, well they couldn’t be bothered to comment. Why should they? He did leave them at the hands of a notorious leader who couldn’t even hold himself together.

 

Clarke chanced another glance at him to find his jaw locked, twitching, and ready for the kill. She shut down the shiver that came through her.

 

“In harmony, together, with the people of Arkadia who believe in equality, and the people of Polis who have been exiled to a life so harsh, we can beat this war. Those who took from us. Who killed us. Who showed us no mercy when we begged and pleaded. They will pay. They will not only suffer what we suffered, but they will watch as we take the hope they have, and crush it beneath our feet like the rubble we walk on. Like the ground they believe is theirs and theirs alone.”

 

One person clapped. Just once. Soon, the rest followed.

 

She did not.

 

Narrowing her eyes at them, at the man who calls himself the founder of peace and equality among the people on this earth. His speech was bullshit. Arkadia is many things. All that he mentioned hit the target but they are not the only ones to blame.

 

Was it not Lexa and her people who took in Murphy and tortured him no matter how much he pleaded and begged? Was it not Bellamy who ruthlessly fought against Arkadia, killing anyone to save his sister? Was it not Marcus Kane who turned his back on his ‘people’ leaving them to fend and fight for themselves?

 

“Coward!” she yelled out loud before she can bring herself to even comprehend what she was doing. Every head in that room snapped towards her.

 

“You’re a coward. You hid behind your _inspirational_ words. Inside your beautiful, porcelain castle. You let them bomb the Dropship. The place _you_ claimed was meant to protect us. You let a twenty-four-year-old lead when he lost so much already he doesn’t know left from right. You tricked, betrayed, and continuously dragged us into your false hope only to remind us who we are fighting against. The enemy is not only Jaha, Arkadia or the people who inhabit it and live by the rules set years ago. The enemy is all of us.” She paused, well aware of glowing brown eyes piercing right into her soul. “It’s the ones who cause harm, and suffering, and discrimination. It’s the person who goes so far as to tell us who to fear, leaving himself out of it when really he’s the one to watch out for.”

 

“It’s all of us. Every single being who trusted you, who trusted Arkadia, and who actually thinks we can achieve peace by war. I was a fool to think that way. I was stupid to let you trick me into thinking that way.” Turning to finally face her peers, the group of kids she patched up, she walked alongside of, she risked her life for when she sought shelter against the bombs, and again every time she ventured off beyond the wall. She looked at them.

 

Finally, when she met their eyes, willing them to understand her words. She focused on Bellamy Blake. Now she knew what he meant. Now she lived it.

 

People like her, will always fight for people like him.

 

“When we fight, whenever we fight” she corrected, “it will be to make sure people like Kane, Jaha, and my father,” she swallowed hard, “don’t exist.”

 

\---

 

“That was something.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Raven shook her head in astonishment, but a wicked grin teased Clarke. Rolling her eyes, she slouched further on the fluffiest bed she had ever had the honor of slouching on.

 

The room was as luxurious as the rest of the palace. The ceiling high, dusted with color stained glass making an elaborate and quite dysfunctional pattern. She was sharing a room with the same strong-willed, slightly limping girl who had somehow managed to make the trip here.

 

Like the rest of Skicru on their walk, she pretended she didn’t notice when Raven took a second longer than the rest of them, or when she paused abruptly to press her fingers deep against her flesh, aching to relieve the pain. The only other person who had paused when she did was Wick.

 

It dawned on Clarke how much the engineer cared for his mechanic. It also dawned on her how the floppy haired carrier of peace and adventure didn’t so much as bat an eye when her breaths grew heavy, and her paces slowed down.

 

It’s truly a wonder how you can have a perfect image of someone, whether it be good or bad, just to watch it disparate into something else completely. The opposite of all your thoughts of them, of who you believed they were.

 

“Do you think of Finn?” Clarke’s filter had clearly run away from her. Raven halted for a split second before resuming her actions of rummaging through her knapsack.

 

“No.”

 

“You were so close.”

 

“Keyword, were.”

 

Clarke raised an eyebrow. Raven matched it without mock.

 

“Fine,” the brunette sighed deeply. “I don’t think of him the way I used to. Not for some time now. But…I do wonder about him. If the kind of person, he is now, is the person he’s always been. I wonder if he’s okay, if he’s happy.”

 

“Even after all he’s done?”

 

“Even then.”

 

“What about the other girl?”

 

Raven’s fingers went loose. Her eyes met Clarke, holding them there. With a soft exhale, she replied, “she died.” A pause, “With Bellamy’s girl as well.”

 

Something, almost like a shuddering flash of lightening, met Clarke’s abdomen. The feeling of grief mixed with shame trickled its way around her neck tighter and tighter.

 

Clarke didn’t dare utter another word. So Raven graciously continued, “The bombing that happened weeks ago wasn’t the first to ever hit. There was a massive explosion on the other side of the wall. Miles beyond the barrier. Some of Skicru were there, living there with the Grounders. It was in preparation for the war.”

 

“Arkadia hit them?”

 

“Yeah. They dropped three explosives that landed directly on top of them. Killed everyone there in seconds.”

 

Clarke pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly as she let Raven’s words roll over in her mind. 

 

“And Bellamy’s girl,” she struggled with the word, but struggled more with shoving the shameful envy aside.

 

“Gina,” Raven supplied, she plopped down on her own bed. “She was another innocent caught up in Arkadia’s shit. Found her place here, slowly fell in love with the asshole leader, who clearly didn’t deserve her, and he fell in love with her.”

 

Clarke’s eyes went suddenly dry. The pain twined its way until tears threatened to surface and glaze over them.

 

“What’s weird though, is that no one had any clue it was happening. Like, when it happened to us, some people said they heard the propellers of the crafts that flew by, or they saw something dark flash through the sky. But when we asked some of the Grounders, the tribes in that area, they said they saw and heard nothing out of the ordinary.”

 

“What if they’re lying?”

 

“Why would they?” Raven shrugged, going back to tossing the contents of her bag onto her bed. “They have no one to fear, especially not Arkadia, so why would they cover for them?”

 

Clarke returned the shrug. Maybe the Grounders didn’t fear Jaha, but there was another ruthless leader with a thirst for vengeance that they did quiver at the sight of. Watching Raven scramble to find some tool she misplaced that was supposedly meant to connect all radio and satellite signals from Arkadia to the ones here, at Mount Weather. Clarke flushed at the discomfort of calling this place, this magnificently flawless place after a dreadful, and dead filled patch of trees felt utterly wrong.

 

“Where are you headed?” Raven quipped from her crouched position, nestling her healing leg under the covers while her eyes wandered their surroundings.

 

Pausing just at the threshold, Clarke picked up a thick leather jacket, and flung it over her forearm.

 

“I’m going to get some answers.”

 

There were a lot of times where Clarke was grateful for her friendship with Raven. In the beginning she didn’t let herself indulge in it. She forced the thoughts of friends, out of her mind. And then with every secret possible hidden under her brilliant mind, Clarke felt she had a right to hold everyone off at arm’s length. If they so easily shut her out, she can for sure do the same.

 

Yet, something in the way those long lashes curled, those eyes pleaded with her in silence, Clarke was more than just grateful.

 

“I hope you find everything you’re looking for.”

 

Smiling softly, Clarke bid her goodbye, claiming she will see her soon. However, the night hadn’t fallen yet. There was so much to left to hear, so many questions to ask and if she was being honest, she hoped that she wouldn’t see Raven so soon. At least not before she could finally rest in bed, soundlessly and serenely.

 

The wide, and very long corridors took her to the main floor where room after room stood still, awaiting visitors. The Dropship was bad enough, she still couldn’t fully navigate her way through but this would take her a lifetime to solve.

 

She really didn’t have that kind of time, for if she did, she wouldn’t waste it trying to figure out the layout of this place. Finally spotting sight of another life, she quickly whizzed past a fantastical piece of furniture covered in the kinds of flowers she couldn’t have ever dreamt up.

 

“Hi, I’m looking for Bellamy Blake,” she said in haste. The woman, dressed in all white from head to toe, kept her face neutral. With ease, and what felt like slow-motion, she pointed in a direction and Clarke took off sprinting.

 

The fact that Marcus Kane had help here shouldn’t have surprised her. That poor woman looked like she saw death, death’s cousin, and the torturous path to the end that will greet them all very soon.

 

The direction she was given, took her through another longer corridor where Miller, Bryan and another young man from Alpha Squad, based on his stance, stood whispering at the end of.

 

“Clarke,” Bryan said in way of greeting. She greeted each of them, as she opened her mouth to ask, all three pointed to the lonesome door right at the end of the hallway. With a small, tight lipped smile in thanks, she covered the remaining distance only to pause just a few inches away.

 

It felt all too familiar. It was her first time at the Dropship all over again. Begging him to take her in, to consider her a valuable player in this God forsaken game. Well aware that she had three pairs of eyes glaring at the back of her head, she raised her closed fist and knocked once, then twice on the white painted door.

 

It swung open. She could have been easily fooled into thinking he was waiting for her. Giving her a solid once over, he shifted his glare to the three boys over her shoulder.

 

“It’s all set.” Miller claimed. Clarke was too nervous to ask what was all set. Too nervous and slightly unsure if she even wanted to know.  Then the thought of Gina and her untimely death, his face that day she taunted him about a loved one leaving his insufferable ass coated her mind, and the guilt rose up like nothing she had ever felt.

 

Arriving here had been a surprise, but Bellamy’s message to them was not. In the back of her mind, she knew the destination was not another clan village ready to welcome them with open arms, and at the ready weapons. She knew he would not let the future of Skicru slither away like that.

 

“Remember our deal?” she found herself asking. Being a head taller than her was bad enough, but when he looked down at her like that. Like she carried something more, like the memory of their night in that closet-like room where she bore her fears out loud and he listen silently, was one he deemed perfect.

“Yes.”

 

“Then you know I expect nothing but the truth. All of it.”

 

His eyes were teasing her. His features went hard, ridged as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

 

There was so much to hear.

 

Little did she know that there was just as much she, herself, had to tell.

 

 

 

The first thing she noticed when she stepped through the threshold was the way the color of the brick shinned in the light. They were indeed painted over, a gleaming gold shade that sent her mind wondering, once more, how such a palace could exist that even the mere coating on the walls screamed of having more class than she ever saw.

 

It was easy to get lost in it, and by the looks of how comfortably Skicru was making themselves here, it was like dodging a bullet. Literally.

 

The next thing she noticed was his bed. Untouched, with fluffed pillows and an overbearing sense of contentment that she had to yield her eyes away from. If he noticed her intently staring, he didn’t mention it. For when she turned around and saw that look in his eyes, a look she was surely convinced only ever belonged to her, she was well aware what was swimming in his mind.

 

“Princess,” his famous greeting in his gruff voice couldn’t have been more perfect, had the situation been a different one.

 

“King,” she mocked in return, only smiling when the corners of his lips tilted up.

 

Carefully, she placed his jacket over the white comforter, then took a seat right next to it, on his bed, with him a few steps away. With crossed arms that bulged in ways she couldn’t focus on right now, he leaned his shoulder blades back until they hit the wall and grinned down at her with hooded eyes.

 

“Remember our deal,” she reminded him. Watching his Adam’s apple bob, the tan column of his throat shivering in anticipation of what secrets were about to be revealed.

 

With a sigh, he claimed, “I remember.”

 

“Marcus Kane?”

 

“Never said he was dead,” he shrugged.

 

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “Never said he was alive either, you never said much of anything.”

 

“Four years ago, I made my own deal with Kane. If he got Octavia out—”

 

“Then you’ll take over, you told me this.”

 

He fixed her with a stern look. Grimacing apologetically, she gestured for him to continue.

 

“Jake and Kane thought out their own ten-year plan. After finding out Arkadia was looking to diminish all existence of the Grounders.”

 

“I still don’t understand why Arkadia wants to eliminate all of those people for? They already have control of everyone on their side of the wall, and those on the other side didn’t provoke them, they didn’t threaten them…” Clarke trailed off, eyes scanning the room as if searching for the answers to her questions.

 

Bellamy’s gaze ran deep, it held her in place and kept her on the edge of the most luxurious mattress she had ever had the privilege of sitting on.

 

“Tell me Griffin, why did you come find me?” he asked furrowing his eyebrows. Just as she was about to roll her eyes and tell him to go fuck himself with that same stupid question, he spoke once more.

 

“You were tired of the way the system was treating you. How they took away your father and your mother. Did you think you were the only one who felt that way?”

 

“I know not everyone agrees with Jaha. The kids you all but raised are proof of that, but not everyone is willing to stand up against him.”

 

“You were.”

 

She shrugged her shoulders, hands absentmindedly stroking the black leather sleeve to her right, “I’m one person.”

 

“That’s all it takes,” his eyes followed her movement before landing on her. The two of them stilled in silence for a few beats until one of them broke contact. It took everything in her not to glance back.

 

“Anybody can start a rebellion. And if the cause is one that all of them agree on, well it’s a revolution. It started off slow. Control the people under your power, the people who trusted you. Then control those out of your reach even when you put them there, even when you built that fucking wall that separated you and them. Until you realize that a wall can only do so much. That it can keep people from entering and leaving but it can’t keep them from turning on you.”

 

“So killing the Grounders is meant to scare the rest of us into obedience? Make people afraid and they’ll work for you?”

 

“That’s it. Fear is what built all the barriers between us and them.”

 

“The ten-year plan was meant to break that?”

 

“No. It was meant to shove that wall up Jaha’s ass.” Bellamy shifted slightly, dropping his arms to run a hand through his hair. “The first step was to determine how many people truly felt cheated. Kane targeted the ones who were wrongly accused, used as examples strung up to die, the poorer class. Then he used their grief to strengthen their hatred for the Chancellor. One by one they all contributed what they could. They used their jobs, their status, whatever they could to help secure a place where they could meet up, discuss all the issues occurring and ways to stop the council.”

 

“The Dropship.”

 

He nodded. “His team grew. It expanded to inside men and women working in the government. In a few months, they had equipment, eyes and ears on every single move made by Jaha and co.”

 

The image of Jaha calling for Kane to be executed, to be caught and brought to him for treason and his ‘dangerous’ behaviour was vivid and clear in her mind. It was like watching the news on her television screen five seconds ago.

 

“You said if Jaha sees it, we should see it,” she recalled all those weeks ago on her very first trip to the now miles away engineering room. A part of her shriveled into burnt ash as the yearning to be back in that room one last time washed over her.

 

“We have better equipment now.”

 

She inhaled deeply, in exhaustion, asking, “And Kane built his relationship with the Grounders?”

 

“That was the second step. He gained enough support on the inside before taking his chances on the outside. He spent time with the Commander, at the time it wasn’t Lexa but he did work alongside her as well. It’s the only reason she’s keeping _her_ end of the deal.” He was met with a curiosity. “If she fought with us in this war to overthrow Arkadia, then she would be the one to kill Thelonious Jaha.”

 

“She wouldn’t pass that up,” Clarke muttered. It evoked a smirk from the brooding fierce-eyed man in front of her whose entire body should be forbidden.

 

“No she wouldn’t.”

 

“I still don’t understand how my father had to risk his life for this? Kane had everything planned out, he had both sides on one team. Why did my dad have to die for this?”

 

The air had shifted just like that. The loom of the heavy topic teasing them both, waiting to see who would crack first. But Clarke was not going to back down. She was promised answers, and she would get them.

 

The idea of Marcus Kane using innocent lives to make a point didn’t surprise her as much as it should have. Using other’s grief to his own advantage is smart, but it wasn’t lost on her. She knew what kind of human he was when he left a twenty-four-year-old who hasn’t properly seen the world, yet has seen enough of it to know what kind of damage it can cause on a soul, in charge.

 

In her hands, he would have wished he never started this _revolution_. However, if it wasn’t for the mess he just created, the chaos and havoc he reigned on them… then she would still be that petite blonde girl with a needle and a future in swallowing her ambitions and passions just to please an undeserving son of a bitch.

 

“I want to ask you something, Clarke.”

 

Her heart froze mid beat. The sound of the ‘k’ in her name fell right out of his lips like a drill to her core. It was the first time he called her by her name. Sending all types of feelings through her she was faced with the ultimate nausea of what it meant when someone uses your name when they have a serious question to ask.

 

“W-what is it B-Bellamy?” His name didn’t roll right off her tongue as sweetly as hers rolled off his.

 

“When you draw, when do you decide that your art is done?”

 

Squinting, she tried to understand his question. When she shook her head in perplexity, he tried again.

 

“When your fingers,” he peeked down at them sitting in her lap, “ach from moving your pencil, from creating your strokes, from shading in the lines, and you pull away from the page thinking you’re done, but then you take a second look and figure that it’s missing something, what do you do?”

 

Shooting him an amused grin still very much puzzled at his vague talk, she said, “I go back and add it in.”

 

He let the words settle between them. She let him wait patiently until she pieced it all together. Though she tried with everything in her, she still couldn’t find the connection between her father and his twisted question. The sound of her name in his voice was also causing weird images in her mind keeping her from thinking straight.

 

“Clarke,” he said it again and this time she was sure she was on the brink of death. “Your father’s death was an accident. There were some complications in the plan when Jaha sent out a warning message to Kane about his work and the rebels he’s harboring but your father thought it would be best to come out and just tell everyone what they were planning.”

 

She froze.

 

“The plan was never to initiate the revolution by having them kill one of our own. Jake thought if he told the people of Arkadia about the Grounders it would get them to listen, make them believe in the cause and maybe even avoid a war. But someone had their shot at him.”

 

Cold water, ice cold water dripped through the vein that runs down her spine. The images, everything from the minute her father opened his mouth to this very minute, it was all eating her alive, clawing at her throat, chewing up her gut only to spit it back out.

 

“You said he died to spark the rebellion.” Her voice shaking, the water pooling under her eyelids as she tried aimlessly to blink them away.

 

“His death did spark it.”

 

“No,” she thundered out, standing straight up, “You made it seem like he willingly took his life for this, for us.”

 

“He did. He knew the risk of speaking out loud, of going against the original plan.” Bellamy pushed off the wall, stepping a few paces closer to her. She looked on as he scanned her face now, watching her pink cheeks puff up in frustration, watched as the sadness claimed her soul. He debated his next sentence, but she noticed him make up his mind when he narrowed his eyes, and said sombrely, “Someone stabbed him, three times,” Clarke shut her eyes, the tears prickling and burning her cornea. “But that’s not how Kane found the body.”

 

Her blue eyes are wide now, open and glistening under the brilliant light. Losing the ability to form proper sentences she threw together a few words in what she hoped would be comprehendible. It seemed to work because soon Bellamy was telling her how Kane left his gorgeous castle to stop Jake only to fail in reaching him in time and to find his throat slit.

 

The tears were dripping down her jaw, her chin and gathering up on the base of her neck right along her collarbone. She could feel his red, thick blood oozing out of him, covering her hands. The bile rose in her throat and before she knew it, a large shadow covered her senses.

 

“How,” she fought back the urge to vomit, “how did you know he was only stabbed three times? Maybe that same person slit his throat?”

 

“I was there,” he admitted in a voice so soft, Clarke thought she imagined it. He took a tone with her that was unlike anything she ever heard. He didn’t even talk to the younger children back at the Dropship in that way. “I’m the one who shot Emerson.”

 

At the name of that ignorant, foul son of a bitch, Clarke lost all control. Her forehead slammed against her thighs as she fell to her knees.

 

The barbed wired gate she put up in her mind, her own version of the wall to block out any and all remembrance of that day. She was right around the corner when Emerson pulled out the glistening red knife after plunging it in her father’s ribcage a third time. She recalled how adrenaline kicked in and she rushed to his aid, not knowing what happened in the seconds that followed. She didn’t even know Bellamy was there that day.

She began sobbing, loudly.

 

Clarke was sure the entire castle was shaking with her. Her hair the same greasy mess caught on her wet cheeks, her forehead wrinkled and her mind on overload as image after image of what occurred that night in that god awful bathroom floor replayed on a continuous loop.

 

A warm hand, calloused, broken and bruised gripped her waist until she was off her knees and into a burning solid chest. Brushing his touch away, she pushed and batted away his fingers as the curled into her hips, not letting her escape his hold. He was murmuring words to her, soft coos, begging her of something but wasn’t aware.

 

She knew about her father’s body before walking into his room this evening.

 

“My dad didn’t take his life,” she said as she hiccupped. “I did.”


	17. Chapter 17

16.

 

 _Bellamy_   _Blake suppressed the cold rush of air that slithered down his spine. The cigarette burning in the night sky, brushed past his lips as he took a strong, long whiff before exhaling deeply._

_It was another shitty day. His mind wandered with thoughts, racing very much like his life depended on his next move. Everything was fair game now. It would be days before he had to visit Lexa again. Explain how they were about to start a war. Explain to the leader of all twelve clans that taking down Arkadia is going to be tougher than they could have ever imagined._

_Jaha was cunning. He thought quickly, and carefully. If their little show-down at the hospital, Raven and Finn trampling in like distressed citizens, didn’t tip him off then they were in more trouble than they thought._

_They needed Jaha’s wits to be in tune with them. If he was to think that Skicru members felt safe coming back to Arkadia, after destroying their chips, after leaving the town behind them, then he would have to certainty change that._

_He would have to deliver a message._

_Skicru was the enemy in his eyes. Members would never be permitted to entering Arkadia after abandoning it. Jaha would be on edge. He would feel like at any moment Bellamy would be back. Striding into his glorious mansion, ready to put a bullet through his head._

_All in due time._

_For now, Jaha needed to be paranoid. He needed to turn his attention to Skicru. Because as cliché as the saying went, that closer he was focusing on the notorious Blake, the less he’ll be on the grounders who were gathering up an army, preparing for battle._

_The battle of a lifetime._

_The wind picked up. Dispersing the sweat that rolled down his bare shoulder blades, his chest, the curve behind his ear from his earlier work out session with Miller. It was cooling him down, until it couldn’t anymore. Until the heat struck back up, faster than his heart pounded from the punches he slammed against the punching bag._

_Even in the dark, he saw the flash of gold. Her head bobbed as she sprinted through the trees, finally coming to the clearing. He watched as she slowed to a walk, before halting completely. With her jacket, hugging her curves, her full breasts, she leaned against the light post._  
_The look in her eyes was all too familiar._

_She was debating. Whether or not to enter. Whether or not it was worth it sneaking off from her mother’s cruel eyes, and the people who basked in her glory. Practically kissed the ground she walked on. Their Princess._

_The hate in his mouth tasted just as bitter as he felt. Despite it all, he smirked._

_Sending Finn and Raven to Ark Hospital wasn’t simply to tip off Jaha. He told them exactly which doors to enter from. Which wing to go to. Which way, down the hall, to walk in order for those blue, haunting eyes, to see._

_Thankfully, it worked out. The Princess had seen them. And like he knew, she took the bait._

_He saw her pale lips part, he saw the gulp of air she took in, before letting it all out._

_Then, like the innocent she was, she walked up, slowly, closer and closer until she was in front of the doors of The Dropship._

_His smirk widened._

_Welcome Princess. Welcome to the King’s Castle._

 

The memory fucked him up.

With a heavy sigh, he chanced a glance at the girl who’s burnt his mind without a single care. The Princess, was tucked in his bed. Golden hair in tangles, sprawled over his pillow, her scent coating the sheets.

Fuck, his bed.

He shook his head, scoffing at how suddenly the weeks turned to months, turned to now. He couldn’t believe how quickly this girl managed to worm her way into everything. More importantly, he couldn’t fucking believe how he managed to let her get away with it.

This is the same girl he heard about time and time again. The same one who killed a criminal out of mercy, out of pity. The same who looked at his sister like a warrior, not like the broken soul he knows she is. The same one he lured to join his team.

The sounds of her tears, the way her jaw shook as she sobbed hard, and fearfully into his chest, was nerve racking. He fisted his hands, wanting to strike at something. Anything. The echoes kept coming back to him, her wails haunting him as he watched her sleeping form shiver.  
He leaned his back further against the wall. Bracing himself, for at any second he might do something stupid, like walk out and into the first unfortunate soul and beat him to a pulp.

No matter how much he wanted, how careful he was not to let his mind wander, he couldn’t forget the words she spoke.

This girl, the one he manipulated, the one he tricked, the one who managed to break him down when no one, not even Gina could…

The girl that killed her own father.

\---

Clarke gasped as she shot up from the warm, plush mattress beneath her and into a sitting position. Placing a hand to her chest, she struggled to control her breathing. When she was finally inhaling and exhaling properly, she shifted her eyes around the room, allowing them to slowly adjust to the darkness.

The entire day was a blur. Or was it yesterday.

She wasn’t sure. They had made it to Mount Weather Castle, she was sure of that. Then she was promised answers, so she went to collect. And then, she swerved until she found the source of the heat that was radiating into her back.

She was in Bellamy’s room. She fell asleep on his bed. After she had cried, like really badly, ugly cried, into his chest.

Then he fell asleep next to her.

The heat that made its way up her neck, reaching her cheeks was burning like a furnace. She was thankful, yet again, for the bleak darkness that shadowed it.

Her eyes remained on his sleeping form. Watching the rise and fall of his strong chest, that she was now very familiar with.

Soft black curls, plastered against his forehead. Clarke bit back the urge to pry them away, then caress the sharp cheekbones he had luckily inherited, or let her fingertips dance across his freckled cheeks.

And just as she was about to give in to her desires, a thought hit her.

He knew.

He knew what she had done. What had been haunting her for months and months. The reason for her lack of sleep, proper sleep. The reason behind why she couldn’t stay with them. Even after the war was over, even after they won, or lost, or fell back into a corrupted system with an evil leader.

She couldn’t stay. Not after what she had done.

Killing her father, even out of what she believed was humanity, would never be okay. Bellamy had looked at her, he saw in her eyes the truth and he still stayed.

It must take a monster to know a monster.

But Bellamy Blake wasn’t a monster. He just wanted people to think he was. Clarke Griffin, she was the true beast.

Arkadia had been nothing but deceiving. It took away both her parents. Her father died at her hands, at theirs. Her mother can’t look at her the same way, and she didn’t even know about the horrors Clarke endured, about the knife her daughter quickly slashed across her husband’s throats. Her best friend, a victim in a fight, a victim in a game that they’d been playing all along.

Tears began building up in her eyes. Her head started to throb just at the thought of another cry fest. She winced, rubbing at her temples. There was no way she was getting rid of this headache, and there was no way she was able to sleep it off. Not with the image of Bellamy’s shocked face embedded in her mind. Or the wistful smile her father gave her, right before he took his final breath.

“It hurts because you’re giving yourself a nose bleed thinking. Stop.” The deep voice, raspy and laced with sleep, said from beside her.

All of a sudden, the pain slipped. Clarke cursed her heart, and then she cursed him over and over until she was satisfied that lighting will strike him soon enough.

“Why didn’t you run?”

“It’s my room Princess. You think you can run me out of the only room with its own private bathroom, you’re going to have to do a lot more than confess your sins.”

Clarke’s gaze met his own. As always, he remained impassive, as if nothing could get to him.

“Uh, well speaking of,” she gestured awkwardly to the bathroom, before shifting off the bed and walking into the smaller room.

Once inside, she flickered on the light, exhaling deeply. She had been lying down next to Skicru’s leader. The man who made her life a living hell, who was so bipolar that he made Jasper’s inability to say no to moonshine look okay.

The washroom was magnificent, like everything else in the castle. The sinks were porcelain glass, beaming brightly against the bold light. There were distinct architectural designs plastered against the tiles, giving it the surreal feeling of the past. Of a time where there were no worries other than the superficial and incredibly insignificant problems.

In the corner sat a tub, big and wide. The knobs a shiny gold that had Clarke in a debate of whether to be dazzled by its beauty or throw up at the fact that there she was mere inches away from something so expensive, so useless while people starved to death.

From the corner of her eye she caught what was Bellamy’s jacket. The same one she had worn a couple nights ago. Like muscle memory, his scent suddenly intoxicated her, barely letting her stand upright.

She needed to remind herself, constantly, how stupid she was. How stupid he was.

The cold titled floors soother the soles of her feet. The sweat that built up between her thighs, and the uncomfortable ache at the back of her knee made her feel more disgusting than she looked.

It was the jeans. She slept in them and they pricked at her legs, causing subtle pain to shoot up and down her calves.

A thought crossed her mind that made her entire body quiver.

If she took them off, it would feel incredibly freeing. She’s sure Bellamy wouldn’t care. He was a man, a very strong man, but he would not falter at the sight of her pale legs. He had seen many in his time as leader of Skicru, no doubt.

In comparison she would be nothing but a little girl in his eyes. So, Clarke had nothing to worry about. It wouldn’t be sending the wrong message, nor would it be hinting at something.

But if she took off her jeans, then she would be left in just her t-shirt which just barely sat at her hips, displaying her less than colorful underwear. Glaring at the black jacket, sitting, taunting her, she groaned.

When Clarke emerged back into the room, he was sat up with his back along the headboard. The light came in from the opened bathroom door. It casted a shadow, outlining the curves of her thighs, the dip at her knee, and the large, bulky jacket that fell on her, engulfing her tiny frame.

Bellamy tried and failed at keeping his face emotionless. She caught the gleam that covered his brown orbs, the twitch in his lips, his fingers.

Had this been another situation, she would have relished in it. Teased him even. Made him suffer. But this wasn’t another situation.

Besides, he probably hasn’t been laid in a while. It had nothing to do with her at all.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.” He said, finally grasping his I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude. “Nice jacket.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. Walking until she was back on her side of the bed, she hopped in, pulling the blanket to cover her legs, but not before enjoying the softness of the bed sheets first.

“Sleeping in jeans should be a crime.” She argued, settling deeply atop of the pillows.

Bellamy didn’t respond.

A million thoughts crushed her mind. Maybe he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. Maybe he doesn’t even want her joining their fight, joining the war. Maybe he was debating the right moment to kick her out and–

“You gonna explain, Griffin? Or are we going to sit here in silence until you pop that vein on the side of your head from thinking too much?”

“W-what do you want to know?” She asked.

“Everything.”

She sat silently for a few moments. Debating where to start, how much she should actually tell him, what was worth actually mentioning.

“Any day now.”

Clarke shot him a disapproving look. “Oh sorry, I was just deciding if I should just flat out tell you or if I should ruin your days with my cryptic speech and push and pull thing I do when I’m not entirely sure if I could trust you or not.”

“Cute.”

“Maybe we should make a deal.”

“No.” He responded firmly. “We’ve made enough deals, and if you hadn’t noticed Princess, we’re terrible at keeping them. Tell me what happened.”

“Only if you tell me about Gina.”

Bellamy froze. His jaw clenched and unclenched, like he didn’t believe the words she spoke. His wide eyes did nothing to conceal his hurt either. For a second, one simple second, she felt guilty.

Then, the moments in which she pleaded for his ear. Pleaded for him to trust her, or to listen long enough to understand her, made their way to the surface.

Clarke played dirty. But if she was going to unleash the gore that was her past, she expected to be treated with some respect. Some form of decency.

Getting her own view of Bellamy’s past, would only be fair. Besides, she knew a lost soul when she saw one. He needed someone to listen to him talk about her. Someone who wouldn’t judge him no matter what he did.

Clarke was the perfect person, considering.

“How do you know about her?”

Clarke scoffed, the blanket like silk, rubbing her bare legs. “You know the answer to that.”

“I’m going to kill Reyes.” He seethed.

“Hm. Sure. Right after you tell me what happened.” She echoed his earlier words. He caught on, like she knew he would and shot her his menacing glare.

“Doesn’t work on me.” She jibed.

After another wave of silence, he spoke.

“This isn’t a damn heart-to-heart. You wanted answers, I gave them to you. You cried your eyes out over your father’s death and your supposed contribution to it, and I’m here to listen. If you don’t want to enlighten me, don’t.”

Clarke gaped at him. Anger coursed through her, she was sure she was shaking. Like clockwork, she threw the blanket up and over until it landed on his lap. With struggled movements, she managed to slip off his jacket and furiously throw it at him.

“Jackass.” She mumbled, getting up and out of the bed.

“Hey,” he called after her. Clarke continued to pad her feet on the floor, closing the distance between the bed and the door.

Just as she was about to grip the doorknob, he caught her arm. However, Clarke didn’t turn to face him. Holding her ground, she thrashed against his grip, but it only caused him to tighten his palm, wrapped around her forearm.

“Let go.”

“Be smart, Griffin.”

Clarke laughed dryly. She quirked her brow at him, “Be smart? Really? I have been nothing but, and you, well you’ve been a huge asshole so excuse me.”

She went to move again but he pulled her back.

“Let. Me. Go.”

Bellamy’s jaw locked, the sharp line more prominent than ever. “Come on, get back in the bed and calm down. If you don’t want to tell me about your dad, you don’t have to.”

This time, when Clarke laughed it wasn’t in dry humor or sarcasm. It was dark. Sending a threatening shudder through her veins, encasing her to the bone.

“You think I don’t want to talk about my dad? My, how generous of you Bellamy.”

“Griffin—”

“I’m just some dumb bitch right? You think I try to make these deals with you for some ulterior motive. Like I’m going to sharpen my knife and stab you in the back when you aren’t looking, but guess what, dick? We aren’t all like you. Yes, I killed my father.” She huffed out. “We were surrounded, seconds from being killed. Locked in a bathroom so foul, so dirty you wouldn’t last a second in it.” The memories started flooding her. It soaked its way to her core until it was as if she was there again. Watching it all go down.

“We heard the door, the entire metal door, jiggle. They were about to launch in when somehow, it must have been someone, lead them away. We waited until it was safe enough to leave. My father was bleeding out of all three stab wounds. But not quick enough. Not slow enough so that I can help him either. We moved out. I tried to get him to a secure location but it was too hard for him. They were seconds away from us. If—”

Hot, salty tears caught at the corners of her mouth. She felt the weight of Bellamy’s hand leave her arm. Through blurry eyes she watched him part his lips, ready to speak but she interrupted.

Continuing, she said, “If they caught him, while he was still in that condition, Jaha would’ve strung him up. He would have made an example out of him. That even those within the inner circle of council members weren’t exempt to the laws.”

“Atom.” Bellamy whispered. It might have been his tone, or the softness in the touch that barely grazed her wrist, but something let it all loose again. The tears began overflowing, tumbling down her lids like some kind of race. The strong presence in front of her wasn’t as comforting as it once had been.

Clarke felt like she lost her voice, but nonetheless managed to gasp out her final words.

“He smiled at me. Like he was trying to make what I did okay. It wasn’t okay.” She hiccupped. Bellamy took a tentative step forward, almost asking if he could hold her. Clarke shook her head, stepping briefly back and out of his reach.

With her vision impaired, she wouldn’t have been able to claim if the look he gave her next was of defeat or relief. Either way, he remained standing in front of her, waiting until she calmed down enough that the blood rushing to her ears settled.

“It sucks, Griffin. I know, but you did what you had to. Who we are and who we need to be are two different things.”

“You can’t honestly believe that.”

“I have to.”

She bit back a retort. He ducked his head back, peering at her under the curtain of blonde hair that covered her face, sticking to her wet cheeks.

“Can we head back now,” he nodded towards the abandoned, cold bed.

Glaring at him, Clarke begrudgingly complied.

“Fine.” She muttered, staggering to catch her breath.

“Thank God.” He groaned under his breath.

Under the covers, she rested her head timidly on her pillow, unsure of whether to face him or away from him. He made the decision for her when he gave her his back. The tears continued to rush out.

The darkness surrounding them was daunting. It was like she had just released all her worst nightmares into the atmosphere and it was slowly sucking her soul out. Telling Bellamy, the truth was probably the worst thing she could ever do, but if her initial plan had been to fight Arkadia, avenge her father and take off, then she needed to be on his side.

She needed him to let her be on his side.

“I never meant to pry with Gina.” Clarke could’ve sworn she heard his breath hitch at the name. It ate at her in a way she was not at all comfortable with. “Sometimes,” she sighed, urging her heart to stop stammering. “Sometimes, Bellamy, it’s nice to talk to someone.”

She felt the bed move. Cautiously, she moved as well. They were facing each other now.

“What do you want to know?” There was a gravel in his voice she never heard before. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t break her heart, even a little bit.

“How did you meet her?”

Bellamy’s brown eyes bore into her oceanic ones, searching for something. What she wasn’t quite sure.

“She came to The Dropship. Last of her family died. Got screwed over by the council, same as everyone else.”

“How long were you two together?”

“Just over a year.”

“She put up with you for an entire year. God, she deserved a damn medal.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. She fought back her own smile, watching carefully as his experienced face fell into the same harsh lines of his sadness.

“And she—”

“I let her go when I shouldn’t have. She begged me, and like the fucking idiot I am, I said yes. Two hours later, her body was buried beneath rubble.”

The image shattered Clarke. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“You loved her?” She whispered, edging her face closer to his. The freckles were more visible, even in the dark. There was also a light scar on his upper lip, definitely adding to his alpha-male bad ass leader status.

“I did.” He confirmed, lowly.

“You’ll love again.” Clarke’s breath fanned his bottom lip, his chin, and his jaw. “She gave you something, Bell. She gave you hope and the ability to know love. You’ll carry that with you, always.”

“You called me Bell.” He mumbled. Their faces an inch a part now.

Her cheeks blazed up. She was well-aware what she had called him. It felt natural, it slipped so easily that she didn’t notice until she was a second away from saying it.

“So?”

Underneath the blanket, she felt his rough, callused fingertips, graze her thigh. Eyes widened, she looked on as his face remained raw. He didn’t have his usual smirk, and he didn’t act repulsed by it.

“So.” He murmured back, hands now flat against the scratchy skin of her thigh, graciously running them down to her knee, before feeling their way all the way up until his forefinger and thumb played with the elastic of her under garment.

His cold hands were a different kind of bliss. The kind she wanted, so badly, but suppressed long enough to know that it was wrong.

She was leaving. Either by death or after the war has ended. No matter what side won.

“Good night, Princess.”

The firm clutch on her seized. Just like that it disappeared. And just like that she missed it terribly. Then he was pulling off his side of the blankets, and getting out of the bed.

“W-what?” She let out, trying to resettle herself.

Bellamy pulled on his boots, tying the laces before shrugging on the jacket she threw at him before. Yanking the drawer of the nightstand open, he grabbed a couple of items, securing them in place.

Clarke continued to watch him in silence. Confusion, and something else she did not want to acknowledge soared through her.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Sleep.” He commanded, except he held a different pitch. This time, she was sure it sounded like he cared.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He answered, throwing his side of the warm bedspread so that it covered her as well.

Half-way through his stride, he stopped, turned to face her, and with those warm eyes he conveyed what she was greatly denying.

“Your father died a hero. Never forget that.”

The click of the door sounded after him. It reverberated against the walls, thundering to the inner parts of her she kept hidden.

Clarke pressed herself deeper into the bed. Squeezing her eyes shut, wondering how much she missed about Bellamy Blake when he wasn’t such a dickhead.

And like that she found herself believing him. Not because she actually thought her father died a hero. But because, Bellamy believed he did.

And that was good enough for her.


	18. Chapter 18

17.

 

Warm waves of light cascaded from the adjacent window, hitting the large plush bed with certainty. The heat flashed against her hair, making the blonde strands appear much more vibrant, like real gold. The light traveled down, grazing her bare legs, until it reached her toes that peeked out from beneath the oversized blanket.

Clarke was happily engulfed in the covers, she relished in the comfort for a second longer before the memories, the tears, and the pain hidden beneath her eyes lids, woke her up. She recalled all of the previous nights’ moments. The feeling of rough hands stroking her pale skin ignited something in her that she immediately put out.

At the thought, her cerulean eyes drifted to the space next to her. She bit back the urge to hold her mouth a gap at the muscled body breathing evenly beside her. Her heart picked up in pace, and relief she didn’t think she would ever feel, cooled her down.

She truly expected Bellamy to be long gone, wandering off to wherever, or whatever it was that he ran off to do.

Usually, Clarke woke up alone. Back at The Dropship, Raven would be up before the sun rose, without a single sound. Clarke always thought she was tinkering in the engineering room, or messing around with the rovers in the garage, but when she noticed the strength in Raven’s stance, the way she seemed to carry more than just her weight even with an injured leg, she knew. Her roommate, and now closest confidant was getting up at dawn to push herself. To work her muscles, her joints, and show no mercy, no reason to be held so far behind the rest.

The exercise she was doing improved her ability to move, but the change wasn’t in the way she stood tall, weight bearing both legs, it was in her eyes. Behind the pools of mocha brown, she had an air of defiance. Of the kind of strength taken and not given.

Even before that, Clarke’s mother, Abby, would leave for the hospital before Clarke woke up and come back late at night after Clarke chased away the nightmares to find some form of sleep.

So, she was used to the emptiness, the vast cold space on the one side of the bed she didn’t toss and turn in. Yet, seeing the rebel leader a mere touch away made her realize how much she suddenly hated waking up alone.

His body was angled away from hers. A good foot of space lay between them where no contact was made, and surely no contact was shared in their sleep. The muscles in his back clenched as he breathed in and out. She thanked the God above that he was still wearing his shirt, otherwise she would be in a completely different situation.

Still, it didn’t stop her from admiring the t-shirt covered broad shoulders, or the way the sheen sweat slicked the hair on the back of his head to the nape of his neck. The glistening tan glowed against the sunlight that shinned in, and Clarke felt her world shatter into the tiniest of pieces, in the pit of her stomach.

Her infatuation with Finn, no matter how short-lived it was, or no matter how many times she told herself that if this was another time, and if he wasn’t such a dick, she might have been easily taken by him, doesn’t compare to what she would have felt with Bellamy.

In another time, with Bellamy Blake, she might not have been taken by him. She would have been devoured by him. The kind of love there, the kind of support she would have felt would be beyond anything anyone could have given her. He was a jerk, who seemed fixated on convincing her he didn’t possess the capacity to achieve bare human emotion, but she saw through it.

She saw his heart. She saw that he has a heart, and one so big it carried a group of a hundred delinquents through the most treacherous forests to seek shelter and comfort from a war that’s raging outside their expensive four walls. A war that they were forced into, plunged in the depths of it where they witnessed their brothers and sisters covered in an endless sea of their own blood. A war they truly had no part in but could have easily enlisted in.

She scoffed internally at herself. At the fact that she finally found someone worth it, someone who made her feel things she never thought she could, someone who snuck up on her so quickly, she didn’t even notice he was all she wanted until he was inches away.

Last night, when exposed herself to him, when she was vulnerable in the retelling of the story that churned her inside out, he listened quietly, patiently. She knew it only came from experience. If he hadn’t suffered the way she had, it might have been different. But the fact that they were two hollowed souls, that made them beautifully broken, and completely and irrationally perfect for each other.

Except she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. At the end of the day, Clarke brought upon pain and hurt wherever she went. She would never indulge in something she could never finished. She couldn’t do that.

Not to him, not after Gina.

The war will end only one way, and with that, she will be gone no matter what path it takes.

Sighing under her breath, she slowly picked the covers up and off her aching body. She hadn’t noticed how tired she was from their journey to this place until her back met the mattress. She heard ringing in her ears, and with eyes still puffy and bruised from crying all night, it was no surprise to find that her head was throbbing louder and louder with each passing second.

In that second, she wasn’t sure if telling him was worth the pain afterwards. She took a sneaky glance at him one more time, before deciding that she would relive it over and over just to have this weight lift off her chest at the fact that someone else knew her horrors, and stayed.

Clarke’s weak toes met the rug as she reached her full height in nothing but her underwear and shirt. It was almost humorous, the situation. She looked about ready to perform the walk of shame, except she was untouched. Despite her wishes otherwise, which she casted aside as soon as they entered her overpowered mind.

She managed to locate her discarded jeans and yank them on. In her search for her worn out boots, she examined the room she didn’t get the chance to appreciate last night. The wide poster bed was the highlight, but the high ceiling with delicate trimmings was a close second. The artist in her followed the intricate detailing of the carved wild lion among a bed of flowers until the wall met the large window. A chuckle came out of her at the irony.

No wonder why he refused to part with this room. It was clearly meant for him.

White silk curtains were slightly parted allowing the heat of the light to enter, and the glass that covered the windows were like gleaming crystal, like fragile diamonds singing.

The entirety of the castle was breath taking. That’s what made it worse. It was like a dream living here, amongst all the jewels and luxury, but it was also a constant reminder of how much she didn’t know of this world, how much cruelty and utter betrayal lives in the hearts of the people who they were meant to trust. Of the people who they called the leaders of their world.

Clarke looked around the room once more with an urge to empty her stomach across the Persian rug across from her.

Children were dying, fathers and mothers were preparing for a war they shouldn’t be fighting, and Marcus Kane is probably enjoying a hot breakfast in his fucking empire.

With a last glance at the sleeping figure, she turned the doorknob carefully, and slid out.

\---

The dining room was as magnificent as the rest of the palace was. Clarke’s eyes immediately found the group of definite outcast the moment she stepped foot inside the large hall but instead of squeezing herself between a delirious Jasper who was shoving what looked to be a type of sweet in his mouth, and the nerve-racked Raven who was still tinkering with her tools, Clarke roamed the hall until she found the table she was looking for.

A pair of knowing eyes greeted her slyly, as if calling to her, telling her that this was a long time coming.

“Miss. Griffin,” the voice acknowledged, a bright smile as fake as the fluorescents in the room perched across his face.

“Kane.” She shot back, bitterly.

His smile turned into a smug grin, eyes flickering from side to side, assessing if they had an audience, or worse if someone was stupid enough to intervene.

“What can I do for you?”

“Oh no, it’s more like what you can’t do for me.” A small smirk etched across her own face at his slight confusion.

After Bellamy’s departure that night, Clarke tossed and turned until the sheets were heavily rumpled beneath her. She was pretty sure she turned the pillow over thirty times, searching for some piece of comfort, just for a few seconds. In the midst of her struggles, her brain was on overpower. Every little hiccup, every little scratch in her plan was vivid, as bright as day.

The little misadventures, the little events that played out so coincidentally were on repeat.

First, she unknowingly followed an old map, hidden in her father’s study that led her to the Dropship. In her gut she knew it couldn’t be a simple coincidence. It had to be meant for her to find.

Then, a few hours prior to her runaway from Arkadia, she exchanged nasty words with her mother. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember over what. But it had been a big fight. One that ended in screams, and torn bits of an already broken heart. It had to have happened, it had to be the final push that shoved her through the door and to The Dropship.

The pieces were falling into place. Like shards of the sharpest glass coming together to create a mirror, except there were still cracks, still fragments that she hadn’t quite figured out.

Clarke twitched, her mind rolling over every memory from the moment she was old enough to realize Jaha’s words were utter bullshit until the moment before she took one last look around the room and fell into a deep slumber.

All of it didn’t add up.

“I don’t seem to be following,” Marcus Kane, shrugged nonchalantly. Clarke’s smirk widened, without waiting for an invitation, or bothering to waste time with manners, she plopped in the chair across from him.

“You can’t turn back the time. You can’t bring back my father. You can’t raise the armies up and overthrow Jaha until he is withering in the dirt next to his damn council members. You can’t even help yourself.”

Each hit, each moment she parted her lips and released another harsh word, was like a whip to Kane’s back. His face grew from cunning ease to cold shock in a matter of seconds, but Clarke merely spared him a glance before evaluating the dining hall once more.

“All of those things, you can’t do.” She paused, eyes caught on Jasper and Monty’s harmless banter and shoving fight. Their smiles tugged at her heart in a way that would surely kill her, and she sincerely hoped that if anything, they would be the ones to survive the battle that’s daunting near. Her blue eyes flicked to Kane once more, a sly grin etching on her face as she ignored the images of her friends and their rotting bodies.

With a sigh, she continued. “Makes you wonder what exactly you can do.”

Marcus Kane looked on in silence. Clenching his jaw, he turned to look at his food, ignoring the burning graze of hurt and anger rolling over him.

“Ha, Kane with nothing to say. Here I thought you were an honorable man. Honorable enough to lure my father into helping you before turning around and stabbing him in the back.”

“I tried to save him. I talked him out of going to the council, out of revealing what we know.”

“Didn’t try hard enough.”

“He had his own hidden agenda.”

“Bullshit.” She spat out. Her carefree façade long gone, and hate lurched on to every part of her. “You could have stopped him but you didn’t. I know what happened. I know what he believed and why he did what he did. But I also know that you let him.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes now, running his palm over his face he struggled before getting out his next words. “Your father knew what he was doing. I tried to talk him out of it, your mother tried—”

“My mother?”

At her furrowed brows, and look of utter confusion, Marcus realized what he had said. He looked around the room nervously, and for the first time Clarke observed as the confident and careless man in front of her, truly felt guilty.

“She knew.” Clarke breathed out.

“Oh, Miss. Griffin,” he paused, furrowing his brow in mock sincerity, “I’m pretty sure she’s the one who convinced him to go public.”

Clarke frowned. Anger coursed through her unlike any other. And she had lived with Bellamy Blake, and his obnoxious ass for the last couple of months.

“That doesn’t make any sense, I thought she was trying to get him to stay quiet. I heard—”

“You heard what she wanted you to hear.”

Like a blow to the gut, it all made sense now. And somehow it all didn’t.

Her mother knew all along. She knew what her father was doing. Who Marcus was. She knew about The Dropship.

Which means she knew all along where Clarke was. Or she had to have known.

Then, the worst question lingered for much longer. Did she know what Clarke did? Did she know who really took her father’s final breath?

“I-I have to…” She trailed off, glancing up to meet Marcus’ cunning grin. The rat was playing her, there was something off about how he kept up his charade. Almost like he wanted to give it up, but kept his hold tight.

Hiding behind a false feeling, whether it be hate, wit, or happiness, Clarke knew it all too well.

“I’m sure you do. Let Mr. Blake know that if he is serious about leaving to fight this gory war, that he needs to say his goodbyes quickly. We leave at noon.”

“Why wouldn’t he be serious? If anything, I’m surprised you decided to make the sacrifice.”  
Marcus cocked his head, the grin staggering slightly, but not enough to disappear. “And why wouldn’t I make the sacrifice, as you put it. After all I’ve done?”

Clarke let out the first true laugh since she’s been between the high castle walls.

“You’re fucking with me, right?” Humor left her tone, and Marcus was met with the coldest stone look that her blue eyes could carry. “You left a twenty-four-year-old in charge of a bunch of kids. You promised him his sister but only if he carried this burden for you. You knew how desperate he was, how far he was willing to go for his flesh and blood.”

“Bellamy knew the risks.”

“No he clearly didn’t. He lost his youth. He lost so much more all because a coward was hiding in the shadows claiming to pull the strings when really he was saving his own skin.”

Whatever cockiness, whatever taunting Marcus was portraying before quickly evaporated. He leaned in close, a breath away from her face, teeth exposing all kinds of anger and seethed out, “I’m not a coward.”

“No, you’re just a manipulator, a liar.” Clarke raised her voice, enough that those around, those who weren’t listening before were now fully aware of the conversation she was having with their phantom savior.

“Listen, Miss. Griffin, you have no idea what you’re talking about. Out of everyone, a spoiled princess like yourself should keep her mouth shut. Bellamy was already broken, long ago. The council members, Jaha they all did that. They deprived him of obtaining a full education, and enjoying it. They deprived him of adequate amounts of food to fill his stomach because he had to share with a sister that shouldn’t have existed. They deprived him of love.”

Taken back, Clarke let her blonde hair fall away and over her shoulders. Still, she kept her stare constant, not letting Marcus see the effects of his words. Not letting her mind stutter on the last thing he said.

“If you care for him, and I know you do, I see it in your eyes,” he held up a hand interrupting the frantic look hidden in her orbs, “then you will be very wary. He is a broken soul. One you cannot fix. Let him go, and let us focus on winning a war that is the mere source of our salvation. With it, we can ensure that no one grows the way Mr. Blake did.”

In one swift motion, the cold air hit her face. Her heart was beating rapidly, so much so that she hadn’t notice that she now sat alone at the table, with wondering eyes peering over at her. There was a lot to worry about. Her fears ranged from the ears that may have heard her deepest secrets, to how Marcus even knew about her feelings, to the information he bestowed upon her, to the reminder of the battle that has yet to begin but would surely end them all.

All of it didn’t amount to the harshness Marcus used when advising, if that was even the word to use, Clarke to let Bellamy go. She didn’t even have a hold on him.

It was evident, and insanely accurate, his inability to look at her as more than a privileged girl surrounded by suffering delinquents, but she was not going to let Marcus Kane get away with telling her what to do.

Then, another thought hit her.

Her mother.

 _Fucking hell_ , Clarke thought bitterly to herself.

Not allowing herself the space and time to dissect this any longer, she got up and made a beeline to the long oak table at the far end of the hall and sat smack dab between Raven and Wick, much to Wick’s discomfort.

“You alright?” Raven raised an eyebrow, her question holding a lot more than concern. Clarke spared her a small glance, noticing that Raven’s eyes were not on her but on the man she just walked away from. Marcus Kane was looking over at them from the far corner of the room, his eyes trained on her like before, except this time he wasn’t smug or sarcastic or scornful. It looked like he had more to say. Like there was something he needed, so severely, to prove.

Clarke wasn’t going to give him the damn chance.

“Yeah, fine.”

Jasper leaned over Raven, with a wide smile and shoved his plate directly under her nose. “Clarke, oh my God, you have got to try this!”

The sighs that escaped the table startled Clarke, and she forced out a breathy chuckle as she pulled the plate out of his hands and right in front of her on the table. She was correct in assuming it was a type of sweet earlier. The thick red syrupy chunks spilled out with their thickly sweet scent and the outer brown shell was crisp. With tentative hands, she held the plate still in one hand and grabbed the fork in the other.

Once the desert hit her tongue, she bit back the urge to moan in appreciation. It tasted rich, and sweet like a type of fruit she was not used to. The bread-like crust was the perfect balance of moist and flakey, and it all just melted in her mouth like nothing she’s ever eaten before.

Grinning like a madman, Jasper nodded in understanding and delight.

“Told you.” He claimed, then with greedy eyes, he reached across to pull his plate back. Clarke was quick, pushing the plate away from him and taking another heaping fork full.

“I see you’ve tried the pie,” the deep voice startled her. The entire table stopped their movements, eyes lifting up and away from Clarke and Jasper to see if they heard right. Bellamy in all his glory, stood at the end of the table, arms crossed, and his two trusted sidekicks a few paces behind. “If you’re lucky, Monty might share his chocolate cake.”

At the thought of that, Monty hastily pulled his own plate closer to him, protecting it with both arms.

“What the hell do you want Blake?” Raven questioned, being the only one who didn’t bother with glancing up. “Came to give another inspiring speech?”

Bellamy ignored her, his brown eyes locked securely on Clarke. From behind him, Murphy crackled, “Reyes, nice to see your injury is still responsible for your pessimism, although last I heard, jealousy also helps out. A lot.” Murphy’s eyes lingered at Clarke with a knowing snide smile.

Glaring, Raven’s middle finger greeted him, along with a string of curses that had the smile slipping off his face.

“Griffin, we need to talk.” Bellamy said cutting in the heated exchange that Wick was sadly trying to end.

Slowly, Clarke followed his broad back until they were out of the dining hall and into another room she hadn’t been in before. Averting her eyes from the muscles that pan across his shoulders, she took in the ancient arcs and wooden furniture that decorated the area.

The atmosphere held an air of sophistication, and serenity. From the antiques scattered across the table tops, to the bookshelf on the far right corner that carried books with bends and breaks on their outer jackets. Everything about this place held some form of history. Some form of the world that used to be but isn’t anymore.

And as Clarke was rightfully aware of the hard gaze drilling through her from her male companion, she couldn’t help but smile at the fact, the simple idea, that the things of our past aren’t truly lost.

Not really, anyway. The old problems were still relevant, and the older happier parts of life can be relevant again. With everything in her, she prayed some part of that was true.  
“Why are you smiling?” His voice cut her intense focus and away from her thoughts.

Clarke eyed him. His posture ever the same with flexed arms across his chest, and narrowed eyebrows in silent wonder.

“Didn’t know it was illegal to smile.”

“You’ve lived in this world long enough, Princess. You know most things are illegal to do.”

“Hm.” She hummed with a wary grin. “Never struck you as the type to worry about the law.”

At that the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, but only briefly, enough to make her heart stutter. Blue met brown. Soon after silence met them both.

He broke it first, “We made a deal before, remember?”

“You broke most of them.”

He grunted humorlessly, “Not all of them. That night on Luna’s rig, remember what you said.”

The images of that night seeped into her skin. She could never forget it if she wanted to. The same way she could never forget how she spilled her heart out to him last night, or the faint ghosting of his fingertips against the flesh of her bare thighs.

“Remember?” he murmured so softly that it took her by surprise. Nodding her head, she crossed her own arms.

“I said we should work together. It was the only way to win,” she explained, then as an afterthought, “yet somehow you still kept me in the dark, and refused my help.”

“Relax, Princess. You were right.”

She froze, with a soft gasp she said, “I’m sorry, did you just say I was right?”

Ignoring his glare, she smirked and leaned in closer to him, until there was a thin fragile line of air between them. “Didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”

Dark tussled hair clouded her vision, as he bent his head lower, nose grazing the lower part of her temple, lips hovering over her ear, and breath tickling her earlobe.

“Don’t get used to it.” He muttered, lips moving over her skin as he spoke the words. Her breath hitched, and she found herself involuntarily leaning closer to him.

“You want to work together?” she asked him, breathlessly.

He nodded, still so close to her that she was entirely convinced she was going to burst into flames.

“Here, I thought I was going to stay back, treat superficial injuries while you go die along with all the other idiots who think they could create peace from chaos.”

“What’s wrong with a little chaos?”

Shifting from foot to foot, she rolled her shoulders back and took a deep breath.  
“You’re a dick.”

All of a sudden, the world exploded. Or she felt like it did, because in a matter of seconds, she was welcomed with a deep, rich laugh. Clarke truly believed she imagined it. She stared in awe, as his laughter echoed, slamming into the walls of the room, ringing in her ear. His breath tickled her neck, and she felt the loss of him when he stepped back to look at her through squinted eyes.

His face was carefree, light, like nothing she had ever seen before from him. The apples of his cheeks glistening against the light pouring in from the glass windows. His perfect teeth bared, pink full lips spread and the rough, deep noise coming from his throat was heading straight to a place that had her pulling her legs closer together.

“You’re sexy when you laugh.” She blurted. Abruptly he stopped. The embarrassment rushed to her face, tinting it a deep red and she kept her mouth a gap, blubbering like a fish out of water.

His pupils darkened, all humor and easiness of his laughter seized. Clarke couldn’t decide what was worse, the words she let slip out of her mouth, which has never happened before. Clarke Griffin, the girl who was embedded in her ways to rethink and overanalyze before speaking. Or how somber she felt when the melodic sound stopped coming out of perfect lips.

“Uh,” she spluttered, looking for anything to say. “Kane says you leave today, at noon.”

Bellamy continued to openly stare at her. Whether he heard her or not, she didn’t know because she was too busy shaking with nerves and humiliation. She gnawed at her lips and it wasn’t until his eyes zeroed in on them that she realized she may have misread the situation.

He wasn’t uncomfortable with her comment. He was fighting an instinct that she’s been fighting since the first moment she indulged in a heated argument with him. And like that, Kane’s words, his advice, his condescending and terrible thoughts invaded her own.

“Uh, so,” she tried again, wanting the focus to lift off her.

“I’m not leaving at noon.” He cut in. “We leave tomorrow night.”

“We?” she questioned, completely unsure of what to do anymore.

Taking a step back, he walked away backwards, and with a slight smirk his head bobbed up and down.

“That’s right, Princess. We.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’ve been gone a long while and I could give you a whole list of reasons why but we both know you don’t give a single fuck, so I’ll spare you. 
> 
> Basically, I was hitting a real rut with this story. I decided to keep it on hold for a while until May when I had the time to actually think it through. But, a recent comment made me do this. 
> 
> When I first started this story, there was barely anyone reading it and the few people that commented always got an instant response back because it was legit only a handful of people commenting. I LOVED discussing this story with them and hearing their inputs, but it did not really drive me to write. I wrote because these two characters gave me liifeeee. I loved their romance and their tension and their ability to be constant pillars of strength for the other. At the same time, Clarke isn’t afraid to hit Bellamy with the truth and he isn’t afraid to call her out on her bullshit. 
> 
> However, one comment on Fanfiction.net made me pause. It warmed my heart to the point where I ran to my laptop and pounded out this chapter, which most likely sucks. Still, I wanted to give that person this. Because they reminded me of how important this story is to me and how I’ve dedicated so much time into it that it does deserve an epic finale. 
> 
> So, this is for you. You know who you are ;) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. There will be about 5-6 more chapters of this story. And because of all this energy, I actually started another story that should be posted once this one is done. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you again. I really do hope this chapter gives anyone whose reading it some type of joy. 
> 
> Also, fuck the hiatus!

18.

 

Cold glass of the table met her sweaty palms, as the crowd gathered around the round table. If Raven was being honest, it wasn’t that much of a crowd, not really.  One by one they filtered in until Monty, being the final one to sneak in, shut the door with a firm snap behind him.

 

Once the short, _click_ sound met their ears, it invited the rush of voices overlapping, questions thrown in every direction, and shrill worries echoing loudly in the tight space they managed to find.

 

Rolling her eyes in complete exhaustion and finding the entire situation unbearable, Raven tucked her chin to her chest and let her eyes wander the items in front of her. Hands tapping away eager to play around with the gadgets.

 

The minute they got word from Nathan Miller that they were to meet on the fifth floor, in the room on the far right of the left wing, she knew exactly what it was about. She wasn’t the youngest mechanic to grace the soils of Arkadia in fifty-fifty two years- without something to show for it. Her knowledge went beyond numbers, figures, and facts about what worked together and what didn’t. Raven Reyes had a special skill set.

 

Observation.

 

In any situation, in any instance where one thing is reacting to another, she has the adequate perceptive skills to know exactly what meaning was hidden beneath the surface.

 

The minute _she_ got word from Nathan Miller, she knew that Bellamy Blake was planning something. Something dangerous. So much so, that she had rushed to her room despite the roaring pain in her left leg, and retrieved all the supplies she had brought with her to The Palace.

 

She gave an inner grunt of disgust at the word choice.

 

_The Palace._

 

Again, her face scrunched in disapproval. All her life she had not lived like this. She did not see a single speck of beauty, and history, and art, and shimmer, and whatever the fuck else this place was dusted with. All her life she was an abandoned little bird, scared of being rejected, unloved. She fought hard for whatever she could get her hands on, and only when she realized the true potential her brain carried did she feel like she might be strong enough to stop fighting.

 

That was the problem with the people surrounding her at the moment. They all believed. They trusted the notion that in order to win a battle, they must fight hard. They thought that only then will their inner strength show, and only then will victory taste sweet on their bitter tongues. A fight fought so epically it resulted in winning a terrible war.

 

But, the browned haired girl, with the piercing orbs learned a valuable lesson a long time ago.

 

Strength is not in the ability to always put up your fists, to continuously physically and emotionally fight back. Strength is in knowing that despite not being able to physically or emotionally fight, despite not having all the answers, or not even having control of your left foot, you still possess all the powers to win.

 

It comes from within. It comes from not giving up when all the worst doubts of your mind push you over the edge. A fight fought with inner strength, with impeccable will resulted in winning a war that should have never started.

 

That was the lesson. That was the takeaway.

 

Looking around, she realized that the lesson was lost on this group. Just as lost as Bellamy Blake was when he entered between the four walls silencing them all with his mere presence. Behind him, a hint of gold tangled curls made an appearance, shooting some of them a small smile before coming to rest on one side of the table, far away from her strong companion but not far enough that whatever magic dawdled between them fell.

 

Raven as usual, was tucked in front and center awaiting for the approval to begin tinkering with the mechanics teasing her on the table top right under her nose. But her interested wasn’t as piqued as she originally thought, instead she found her eyes lingering between the dark leader, and the light medic who were stealing soft glances at each other when they thought the other, and no one else was looking.

 

Smirking to herself, Raven shook her head again, maybe the eighteenth time that night. She didn’t get the chance to process anything before, Bellamy parted his lips and spoke, finally.

 

“Hey!” He commanded. “Whatever questions you have will have to wait, or shove them down someone else’s throat. Right now, we need to focus on other things. As you can see, I did not leave with Kane or the others today.” He shot a glance at the pleased blonde to his right who seemed set on hiding her approving smile. Under his gaze, she flushed and it would have easily been dismissed, in fact it was by everyone in the room, except for the man giving her the sweet eyes, and Raven.

 

Oh, and the angry spacewalker lurking in the depths of the farthest corner of the room.

 

Raven eyed him as he eyed the rest of them. She hadn’t even noticed he was there and her skills were sharper than ever now that her two favorite subjects were inches apart.

 

At first Raven was shocked she had missed him walking into the room. She never thought she’d live to see the day when she wouldn’t feel his presence, feel the light hit her as brightly when he walked into the room. It seems that everything has changed.

 

Finn was not the person she thought he was. As he shifted his gaze at his fellow Skicru members, he held an air of something stiff. Raven noticed that his eyes didn’t linger on Clarke as the used to. He didn’t snide at their leader or at any of the hundred. Instead, he looked torn. Like there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t…or wouldn’t.

 

“I know I told you guys that you had a choice. That you _have_ a choice about whether to join me and fight or to stay behind.” Bellamy’s voice cut Raven’s focus. “But now I want to make it perfectly clear. Whether you are on the front lines, or safe here, there are no limits to your abilities. You can all contribute in helping take down Arkadia.” He gave a large sweep across the room, making eye contact with each of them before landing directly on her.

 

“Reyes, you can manipulate the Ark’s system from here. The best hardware, programs, and computers are all here.” Raven raised a perfect brow at him. Of course this wasn’t news to her. She explored the tech room thoroughly knowing very well that the mechanics here are what kept this place and Kane hidden for so long.

 

“You can get in and out of the network, tell us exactly where attacks are being made, where and what to avoid.” Bellamy continued. Gesturing to Monty and Jasper who were surrounding her, he added, “And, you have an entire team to help you.”

 

Glancing over her shoulder, she caught sight of a few more members from engineering she worked with back at The Dropship. Not to mention, she was greeted with a shit eating grin from none other than the one thing on her mind these past couple weeks, Kyle Wick.

 

“Some of you are excellent fighters, and some of you have excellent survival skills. Either way, we have to work together.” The word catches in his throat, eyes returning again to the blue ones yearning for him just as badly as his yearn for her.

 

“How do we do it?” Clarke uttered her first words since arriving. All eyes were on her now as they all fell silent.

 

“One step at time. We do it together. We are Skicru. We are the hundred somethings that came together, the outlaws that no one wanted. We made the difference. We will continue to fight for our lives and the lives of those who’ll come after us.”

 

The irony was not lost on Raven, but she refused to comment. Gripping the edge of the cool glassed table, she rolled her shoulders and watched. In simple Raven fashion, she watched as each person was touched by their leader’s words.

 

Jasper patted Bryan on the back, earning him an awkward pat on the shoulder right back. Murphy’s smug grin widened, and he scoffed at the air in front of him. Octavia looked over at Monty smiling small. Harper, Miller, and Monroe all stood tall, holding onto the words as if they were hope themselves. In a way, Raven thought, the words were enough hope to create unity. Bellamy was onto something, he always had it in him. His undying desire to save them all despite being lost and broken himself. 

 

Raven knew well enough how broken he was. Having spent a night warming his bed, using him just as he used her. The sadness he masked convinced her for a long while, but that night she watched as they resurfaced. Struggling to maintain a hold on his tough façade and his ruined soul.

 

Her gaze finally landed on the just as broken girl a few paces away from her. Shock hit Raven harder than anything she could have ever felt. There could have been another nuclear bomb thrown at them and she wouldn’t have felt it that because her focus was on what was in front of her at the moment. Beneath those glistening eyes, Clarke carried something Raven had never seen in the medic’s eyes before.

 

Hope.

 

The same type of hope that was shared amongst the entire room.

 

It was new to see such emotion in Clarke. Dangerous, and very new. Raven understood fully well that Bellamy was in no position to evoke such emotion especially based on the horrible and bitter interactions between the two of them. The promise of succeeding if they work together, considering that they’ve all tried to coordinate in the past, wasn’t as persuasive.

 

In reality, they were better off not speaking to each other.

 

But the stupid part of Raven, which she reluctantly agreed she possessed, thank you Finn. That part was on full display as she too carried that same hope that will most likely end up with all of them burned by the flames.

 

Chancing another look, she noticed that that same connection made its way around the room.  Everyone knew how it would end but they still had hope. And just like that, a spark so unlike any other hit her hard. So hard that it made her wish for something so unlike her.

 

It made her wish for happiness.

 

That very first night, when she had brought Clarke up to meet Bellamy, the tension was as thick as the tall bricked walls of this castle. It was so abundantly clear, she called it then and there. While they managed to bring together everyone right now, happiness might not be following close behind.

 

Because while Raven wished to be happy. Miss. Brainiac knew the unfortunate truth.

 

Those two carried such passion, individually and when they came together that they were either going to whole-heartedly hate one another or be so dispersed in love with each other that they wouldn’t be able to tell an Arkadian from a Grounder.

 

And if it so happened that they were the latter rather than the former, well that had its own set of possibilities.

 

If they got together, one of two things will occur, no doubt.

 

They would either rule the entire world together.

 

Or,

 

They’d destroy it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Clarke begrudgingly pulled the pink silk blanket closer, tucking it under her chin as she dug herself deeper into the comfort of the bed. Every bone in her body was angrily protesting but she could no longer deny the ease that seeped through. She scoffed when she caught herself sighing at the warmth emitting from the sheets.

 

Her mind drifted to earlier in the day when all of Skicru was packed tightly in one of the empty rooms of the castle. Bellamy’s speech resonated with all of them. Granted, he spoke a few words, some of which were heard before, but it was the way he spoke them. The goosebumps rose on her arms, prickling up on the back of her neck just remembering his lips, and the words coming from them.

 

Soon after, each person took on a role. Like a machine, each person moved with precision and purpose looking to shape up the team, preparing for battle.

 

“You turn over one more time and I’ll shoot you, Griffin.”

 

Clarke stilled. Peeking through one eye, she spoke over her shoulder to Raven who was in the next bed over, “Sorry, I just can’t sleep.”

 

“Hm, must not be the same as Blake’s bed.” Raven’s smug grin was there, Clarke all but felt and heard it.

 

Tossing over so she had the nosy girl in perfect view, she raised her right brow and with a smirk said, “You’d know.”

 

Despite Raven’s sleepy voice and her half-closed eyes, she smirked right back earning a breathy chuckle from Clarke.

 

Clarke was about to make another retort when the door jiggled, cracking open to reveal the youngest Blake with tears pooling in her eyes. At the sight of her, both Clarke and Raven shot up sitting straight and watching as Octavia shrugged the door shut and moved closer to their beds.

 

Patting the area at the edge, Clarke scooted over so Octavia can sit next to her.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Octavia’s lips quivered at the question, then the tears started flowing down her flushed cheeks like a waterfall. “L-lincoln left.”

 

“What?” Raven shouted, fully sitting erect, back against the headrest. Clarke shot her a frowning look, before encouraging her to whisper before all of Mount Weather woke up.

 

“Yeah, h-he ju-ust left.” Octavia stuttered, leaning her head back against the pillow, shutting her eyes tight as her fingers struggled to keep up with her fallen tears. She wiped them as fast as she could, seeming like she didn’t want to cry but her heart wouldn’t let her keep them at bay. Clarke leaned over, helping her sit up before embracing her in a tight hug.

 

She continued to soothe her until her gasps and trembling body calmed.

 

Thirty minutes passed by without a single word uttered. Then… all hell broke loose.

 

“Do you want to explain or sleep?” Clarke asked the young girl in her arms. Octavia remained quiet. Lips still quivering, only slightly now, and breath coming out faster.

 

“He said that he couldn’t hide out here anymore. He had to go get ready with his people. Fight for his people.”

 

“I thought we were all fighting together? We have a common enemy?” Clarke asked, brows furrowed but one look from Raven answered all her questions.

 

A war as big as this one means there’s no such thing as a coalition.

It was Grounders vs. Arkadia vs. Skicru vs. Kane.

 

“You’re shitting me,” Clarke gasped. “After all we’ve done? And what? He’s going to run off to Lexa and tell her we’re preparing for war, we’re spying on Jaha and building new tactics.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Octavia half-shouted, sitting up and moving away that Clarke’s arms fell from around her.

 

The anger was evident in the way Octavia clenched her fists, tear eyes dissolving into a furious stare.

 

Clarke felt a terrible feeling set in, but she knew she had to give it to her straight. “Octavia, I get that you loved him but if he’s threatening us—”

 

Octavia’s sharp voice cut her off, “Threatening?”

 

“Look, Octavia all I’m saying is that not everyone could be trusted.”

 

“Right, and yet we trusted a councilwoman’s daughter.”

 

Clarke’s head snapped back, unsure of what to say next. Octavia’s glare was not helping.

 

“He would never risk our lives.”

 

“You’re blinded by love, Octavia.”

 

“At least I have the ability to feel it. You think your level-headed mind will get you anywhere but closer to your own grave with no one there, Clarke. You’ll die alone.”

 

It was obvious the words spoken were finely tuned. Hitting exactly where it hurt. Raven moved uneasily in her spot, placing her hand uncomfortably on her leg as if to say it was cramping. The atmosphere was what was really cramping.

 

“Octavia, you cut your wrist claiming it was for love, you follow him around like a lost child. He left you in a time you need most. You’re really going to defend his ass?”

 

It was the absolute wrong thing to say, if Octavia’s jaw-drop and suddenly cold eyes were anything to go by.

 

“Hey, I didn’t mean—”

 

Octavia scoffed, cutting her off, “No you did Clarke. You assume the worst in people and find a way to turn everyone into your enemy. I did what I had to do to protect him. He was being tortured and the only way to stop it was by doing what I did. But you could never understand that. You have this way about you, and you think you’re smarter or better than me for not giving in to your emotions when really you’ll end up so far below where you want to be.”

 

Shocked, Clarke leaned back. She shifted her gaze to Raven who refused to meet her half-way. Clearly something about her was shared amongst them and now it was coming out.

 

“What?”

 

“You expect the worse, Clarke. I get it, you don’t know Lincoln, whatever. But you know everyone here. Yet, you refuse to believe in something other than all of us dying. Sad part is, it’s not even fear. It’s just you. Uncaring and lacking of anything close to human emotion”

 

Clarke looked on in disbelief. She spluttered searching for the words to say. Glancing over at Raven told her that the mechanic thought something along the same lines.

 

“I’m sorry, but do you not see where we’re all headed? You just confirmed yourself that the war isn’t just between us and Arkadia. Everyone out there is looking out for themselves.”

 

“And you’re not? You think none of us know you’re planning to bail once all this is over?”

 

Sinking deeper in her bed, Clarke refused to fall for the bait. Still, she couldn’t keep herself from saying, “Why the fuck do you even care? You seem to think I’m incapable of feeling, clearly you’re better off.”

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

 

“Then what the fuck do you mean?”

 

“Bellamy.”

 

“What about him?”

 

“He’d care.”

 

Clarke scoffed humorlessly. “Yeah, right.”

 

“You still see the worst in him? After he welcomed you in. He listened to your suggestions. He risked his life for you—”

 

“No, he didn’t.” Clarke seethed. Bellamy would risk his life for his people, yes. But since knowing Clarke, he took his time accepting her. She was certain, mountains would move all on their own before he risked any part of him for her.

 

“Who do you think they were targeting with those bombs, Clarke?”

 

Clarke froze. Her mind was going at a speed she could not keep up with. The bombs that hit them weeks ago could not have been intended for her. No one knew where she was. The Dropship was a location hidden between wild lands and the wall. If Jaha was going to hit it, he would have. A long time ago.

 

Besides, wasn’t it established that Jaha’s whole purpose was to bomb the grounders. He hit them wanting to frame Skicru. He launched attacks around The Dropship as a warning. As a threat.

 

“No. You’re lying. Jaha was sending a message.”

 

Octavia let out a dry laugh, “You know you could be a real idiot for someone who supposedly has this undeniable wit to her. They were trying to hit you. You know too much. Your position as an elite’s daughter gives you the platform to say what you want and they’ll believe you. Everyone knew where you were when your father died. And if you were to waltz back to Arkadia right now, claiming that Skicru was not the enemy, they would have serious doubts about their government.”

 

“That’s not true. If it was that easy then any one of us could have gone back.” Clarke supplied, her heart beating louder with each word.

 

“Really? So if Raven went back they’d believe her? Or would they think she was some psychotic undeserving orphan? What about Monty? Would they believe a kid who got high all on the fact that he just wanted to _be_ a kid? Or what about me? Would they believe the girl who didn’t deserve to breathe? Who belonged to no one? Belonged nowhere?”

 

At those words, Clarke’s heart split into a thousand pieces. Tears started forming in her own eyes. If Octavia’s intend was to make her feel back for the reservation she had towards Lincoln and his intentions, well then she succeed.

 

“That’s enough.” Raven finally spoke up from her spot. When Clarke’s teary eyes met hers, she looked hesitant, almost guilty.

 

Octavia looked away, finally coming down from her adrenaline kick and cruel word vomit. She opened her mouth as if to add something but seemed to think better of it.

 

There was more. Clarke felt this heavy weight plunge down on her. Suffocating her to the point of no return, the air aching to reach her lungs but it’s like her mind, her heart, her entire being wouldn’t let it.

 

“That’s why we left the Dropship?”

 

Both girls nodded.

 

“They managed to miss our location because Raven took them off course. She hacked into the system and landed the missiles where she knew no one would be. Unfortunately, some of our members were out there.”

 

Raven’s eyes dropped, it was clear that she believed she carried the death of Sterling. But if Octavia was telling the truth then Sterling’s death was on Clarke. His death and the death of the other’s they couldn’t find.

 

“I thought they locked us out of their system.” Clarke said aloud, to no one but herself.

 

Again, both girls remained quiet only shaking their head in disagreement.

 

“What about the bomb that hit the Grounders?”

 

The look shared between the two sent shivers down Clarke’s spine.

 

Raven sighed, “That was the first one to hit. Before we even knew what was going on.”

 

“If they’re targeting me, why would they hit Polis?”

 

“That bomb wasn’t sent by Jaha.” Raven answered.

 

The silence that met the room told her enough. While Jaha was intending on doing damage to her and the rest of Skicru, someone else knew. Someone else took their chance to hit Polis in attempts to raise a rebellion. One fearfully ruthless revolution that would have all three sides truly at war.

 

Clarke thanked everything within the entire universe they were able to avoid it. What she failed to avoid were the tears that peeked out the corners of her eyes.

 

Octavia shook head causing her hair to wrap around her shoulder. She looked to be mad at herself for falling so far away, from saying too much.

 

Raven inhaled deeply before speaking. “Bellamy made me promise not to tell you. We made a whole show of making it seem like they locked me out of their military base, but I got through, eventually.”

 

Octavia’s quiet voice piqued, adding, “I didn’t know until he packed us up and brought us here. I had to force it out of him.”

 

The uncomfortable feeling only grew. As they kept feeding her information, the truth, her chest felt heavy. Pain spiraled through her, teasing and picking at every nerve from her head to her toes. She found her hands shaking, fingers picking up the blanket just needing something to steady them.

 

Tears were now strolling gently down her pale cheeks. Eyelashes wet, sticking to each other as she shut her eyes tightly wishing she never spoke out about Lincoln. Wishing this truth stayed a lie.

 

But, she needed to know. And the next words Octavia spoke were the reason why.

 

“He wanted to protect you.”

 

In that instant, every single minute spent with Bellamy Blake from the moment she arrived until she parted ways with him house ago rushed into her mind. Frame by frame. His cold-heart. His harsh humor. His unkind words. His thoughtful mind. His resilience. His undying determination.

 

Clarke’s eyes flashed open. And within them, was her own determination. From the terrified looks Octavia and Raven gave her it was clear that they had no clue what was drifting through her. What was gnawing at her bones, commanding her to move.

 

She pushed the covers to the side, fleeing the room barefoot, with tousled unclean hair, and her flying night shirt behind her.

 

With an uncourtly speed, she brushed past Wick who appeared to be hovering outside their door. She didn’t have time to care about what he had heard and what he hadn’t. She proceeded, making her way to the place she knew so well.

 

Her heart was through with it all. It had had enough.

 

After what she had to endure listening to Octavia. It was numb.

 

Walking, basically jogging, down the hall ignoring the looks of everyone whom she was sure knew her to be the crazy girl running around half-naked by now, was enough to put her unsteady, wild-beating heart to rest. Not giving a single shit.

 

When she was outside that door, white and pristine, she felt her anger coursing through her. Anger at his deceit, at hiding all she had just learned from her after she willingly opened herself up, well a portion of herself, to him.

 

Her knuckles met the wood of the door with sharp, quick, and rapid taps. She could faintly hear his footsteps before the soft click of the open door echoed out. The wide swoop of the door brought out a gush of wind carrying with it his scent. Cigarette smoke, and mahogany wood, and Bellamy Blake.

 

Then, the top of his curly black mane appeared, followed by his confused expression at her standing outside his door. His eyes registered her red-rimmed opals, the blue intensifying against the light of the hallway.

 

He was slightly hesitant at first but the kindness that lay just beneath the surface was the first thing Clarke saw.

 

“Forget something, Princess?”

 

Her eyes darkened. Looking at him now, everything in her relit. The heart she previously believed to be at rest, uncaring, now re-jolted. As if brought back to life, pumping blood faster that she was positive he could hear it.

 

His eyes shifted looking hers from left to right, stone cold face and confusion gone. She watched him swallow, Adam’s apple moving up, then slowly down as his jaw clenched.

 

“Yeah, I did.” She breathed out.

 

Taking a single, one tiny step forward, she brought her hands around his neck, pulling him down, and crashed her lips onto his.

 

Taken aback at first, his hands laid by his sides, unknowing of where to put them. She didn’t let his shock disrupt her from capturing his bottom lip between both of hers, licking into his mouth until he parted, sucking her in with such fervor, her lower half was giving out.

 

He wrapped his lean muscled arms around her, pulling her up and back into his room. Her small body fitting into all the curves of his own. She felt his pounding heart under the curve of her left breast, urging her heart to leap right out of her and connect with his.

 

The butterflies erupted in her stomach.

 

Clarke tilted her lips, pressing into him even more, scraping herself to stick to him, every part of him as if it was possible with the way her curves dipped and grinded into his. He brought his left hand up, tucking it behind her ear, gently stroking her soft skin with his thumb. The kiss only heightened when he pushed against her, fighting her for all she’s worth, nipping, licking, sucking every inch, from corner to corner of her pink, wet lips.

 

The butterflies exploded in her stomach.

 

Her bare thighs brushed against the crisp material of his pants. She hicked them up higher until he tucked his hands underneath her, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around him. His warm palm met her cold flesh and she jerked into him on impulse.

 

His hot tongue met hers. Lacing it around hers, savouring her sweet taste and giving her more of him. She returned his deep grazes, desperate and frantic.

 

Ignoring the need to breathe, she felt herself full of air from him and him alone, but as always life was too real to dismiss and she had to pull away. The air left her lungs, meeting his swollen, red lips heavily, as they remained unmoving. Close enough to her that she couldn’t resist pressing another soft kiss to them.

 

“Fuck.” He murmured, lips meeting hers again.

 

Clarke reluctantly had to pull away again and with every fiber in her body, she leaned back meeting those brown eyes she didn’t know she lived for until now, or more like wouldn’t let herself come to terms with how she lived for them, until now.

 

“You’re a liar.” She murmured back. His face fell, not really understanding her tone or the situation.

 

“Figured you kind of knew that, what with the way you yell at me.”

 

She broke into a smile.

 

Bellamy wiped away her tears, bringing her forehead to rest against his. “Why were you crying?”

 

“Why else? Because of you, jackass.”

 

Bellamy’s eyes softened. “Clarke,” his baritone voice sounded like a plea.

 

Clarke disregarded him reaching down to kiss him again. He wanted to argue, but with the way her hair fell around him, tickling his cheeks, he couldn’t deny himself this.

 

“I have to go.” She whispered, finally pulling away. Giggling, when he chased her lips. She pulled back until he set her back on her feet, shirt finally falling around to cover her up.

 

“You ever going to explain this to me, Griffin?”

 

Clarke let a small grin out, “One day. For now, thank you.”

 

Taking tentative steps back, she bit her lips as she watched the man in front of her stare into her eyes. The confusion that hit him almost made her break into complete, loud and roaring laughter. But those eyes. Those fucking eyes made the sleekness in her core wetter, and goosebumps on her skin spread.

 

Bashful and unable to keep eye contact, she gave a tiny wave to which he smirked at. He licked his lips, as if to keep the taste of her on his tongue. Turning away before she broke and ran to him, she followed the path back to her room.

 

And she knew. He was staring at her intently, like he always did.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Jasper Jordan. A character I fell deeply in love with, who showed me true internal struggle with what I want to be feeling with what I'm actually feeling. I cried my eyes out when I watched that episode, and couldn't imagine how the show would lift up the serious and dark moods without him there.
> 
> But that's the thing about The 100. It's a dark show with darker tones than any other. The sadistic part of me is head over heels while the part of me that is attached to characters like Jasper, felt the world fall, crash, and burn.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and Jasper as he plays one of the biggest parts in the upcoming war. 
> 
> I also posted the official playlist to the songs I listened to while writing this story. It's right before the first chapter if you'd like to check it out.
> 
> Side note: This chapter is not completely edited. I just wanted to get it up badly, so sorry for the many mistakes, I'm sure, that appear.

19.

 

 

Jasper Jordan was cheery. Overly so, that Clarke felt the heat reach her cheeks and the air get thicker and hotter by the minute. And, Jasper never had that effect on her.

 

He continued to stare, and whenever she caught his eye he would wag an eyebrow at her with a sniggering smirk.

 

She knew exactly what was up. She just wished he didn’t.

 

Apparently, her rushing through the halls as everyone was getting ready to call it a night was well-heard of. So well-heard of that some people actually followed her, discretely, wondering where she would be racing off to. If it was what they suspected, then they knew she would be at the door of their leader ready to knock it down and engage in a screaming match. None of the others would admit it, but they found it quite entertaining to watch the two of them bicker. To watch them hide parts of themselves they thought the other didn’t know about.

 

What they found was the cathartic moment they were all holding their breaths for, but were anxiously coming to terms with the fact that it might never happen.

 

Until, it did.

 

Clarke didn’t know exactly what was going on around them in that moment. All she knew was that the taste of Bellamy Blake still lingered on her bottom lip. The feel of his skin, under her palms, tickling her fingertips. The pressure in her stomach that made its way so far down, drowning in lust was still there as well. Even after a night of restless sleep.

 

“If you have something to say, spit it out.” Clarke groaned out. Her sweaty palm met her eyelid, rubbing away the little bit of sleep she managed to catch.

 

Jasper shrugged, but the smile remained. If anything, it grew.

 

“Nothing, just wondering if Bellamy’s lips are as soft as I think?”

 

Clarke bit her lip, a smile and rumbling laughter threatening to spill. The way Jasper looked at her, all knowing and wink eyed made whatever strain she felt disappear.

 

“You’re really the comic relief here, aren’t you?”

 

“Do you feel relieved?”

 

“Kinda,” she shrugged, then turned to see Octavia Blake walk into the large eating room, black hair in intricate braids snapping against her back.

 

“Not anymore,” Jasper mumbled, before gathering his tray and disappearing. News of their screaming match was also travelling across the castle. It appears that when the Blakes are angry they make it apparent to the world. Shutting themselves in and everyone else out. A lovely trait, Clarke mused, sarcastically.

 

As Jasper’s thin form waltzed away hurriedly, Clarke couldn’t help muttering the word _traitor_ , at his ability to flee in the direst of times.

 

Octavia’s face was impassive as she approached, three steps away from the round table. Another very lovely trait the Blakes picked up, leaving her blind and unknowingly staggering to figuring out what really ran through those thick heads. Having her tire herself out trying to grasp at dead ends.

 

When Clarke left her room in a spontaneous and scatterbrained rush, Octavia was the least of her worries. The girl was still fierce eyed, tainted with teary cheeks, and betrayal emitting off her. When Clarke returned in her frivolous state, she found her gone. Only Raven remained, laying on her back, looking up at the ceiling with a slight smirk, to which Clarke ignored and crawled into her own bed, and the room went silent.

 

“I’m sorry.” Octavia blurred out even before reaching the table.

 

Blue eyes widened in shock. The words spoken last night left her in pieces, in ways she didn’t think possible. Not after all the shit she’s been through. “You’re sorry?”

 

“Yes. Clarke, I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

 

“It was the truth.”

 

Octavia winced, “Even so. There are things you’re going through that I obviously don’t know about. But I should have known better. Because I know you Clarke. And while you have your way of ignoring or refusing to see the light, you still saved me. So many times.”

 

Clarke’s eyes hurt. She had cried last night while Octavia threw hateful truths at her. While she flung accusations and put Clarke out to be the spoiled princess, she also managed to open her eyes to all that she has been missing. To all the things she led herself to believe would end up saving her and sparing them.

 

“I shouldn’t have said those things about Lincoln.”

 

Octavia sat down, giving her the most exasperated look. “Shaking her head aggressively, Octavia reached out to grab her hand, “No. You might as well have been speaking the truth too.”

 

“No I wasn’t. You know him better than anyone else. He loves you Octavia. He wouldn’t risk losing you.”

 

“Maybe. But he did leave. He left me here to go fight for his people. Whether they’re on our side or not, his loyalties lie with them.” She paused, giving Clarke a hard look, she continued, “Just like our loyalties lie with you.”

 

“I almost got everyone killed.” Clarke spat out, anger rising from the depths of her she tried to supress. “I should have known.”

 

“Clarke, you’re shitting me right? How the hell could you have known when my brother kept you in the dark. When we listened to his stupid ass and _kept_ you in the dark.”

 

“Arkadia is vicious. We all know that. This place, so beautiful, so amazing was hidden from them for a reason, Octavia. I should have known my mother would find a way to rat me out or find some way to lead them to me, wherever I was. I always felt like she had something to do with this.” Clarke thought back to the map she found in her father’s study. The way the creases were done to reflect the exact location of the Dropship despite the ink across the paper that said otherwise.

 

She tightened her hold on the pale girl’s small fingers. “When Wells died, I felt my whole body break. It was like the one person who was there for so long, who might have understood even a little, never existed all of a sudden. Knowing what would happen to me, he would have followed me if I told him about my plans, if I told him the night I left. Then, the result would have been death for us all before talk of fighting an actual war even began. I kept him in the dark for the same reasons your brother did me.”

 

“If you felt that your mom knew, why would she risk Wells’ life like that. It wasn’t like he wasn’t giving her information. Did he know something else?”

 

“I have no idea. My father hid the map but not well enough. I found it.” Clarke recalled. “If my mom wanted to, she could have found it herself. So Wells being…” she swallowed the lump in her throat, “murdered, doesn’t make sense. No one in Arkadia will willingly defy Jaha like that.”

 

Octavia nodded silently, releasing her grasp on Clarke’s hand. The weight of the words settling in between them.

 

While Arkadia wouldn’t dare lift a finger at Jaha, the rest of the world thought of him as fair game. It could have been anyone really. Kane, the Grounders, even someone on the inside via The Dropship, via Skicru.

 

Clarke took the opportunity to gaze around the room. Late morning meant that meals were served and eaten over two hours ago. Still, some people loitered, delaying their return to work or life. Clarke caught sight of goggles and flat black hair huddled close together pretending to be looking elsewhere. When the two idiots caught her gaze, they blew her a kiss with wide grins eating up half their faces.

 

“I heard about your gratitude. Do you always thank people like that?” Octavia’s voice rang sweetly, in its terribly teasing tone.

 

The blush that crept up Clarke’s cheek intensified to the point where she was certain she’ll never return to her true color again. Octavia only chuckled, placing her hands in front of her on the table and leaning in close.

 

“You do know he’s pissed about it, right?”

 

Clarke’s eyes shot up, “What?”

 

Her nerves spiked up, she felt her palms grow clammy once more. The sweat began to build up along her hairline like a switch turned on. From the way they ended things last night, the way she walked away needing to breathe, to think straight, it seemed like it was good. That he liked it.

 

“Well…” Octavia trailed off, and suddenly her eyes were everywhere but Clarke. Eager and waiting, Clarke leaned forward as well, the table pressing against her breasts as she jittered with anxiety.

 

“Those two think they’re so slick,” Octavia nodded to Monty and Jasper who quickly snapped their head up as if something interesting was carved into the ceiling. “WE CAN SEE YOU IDIOTS!” Octavia shouted from across the dining hall.

 

The two jumped in their seats, from fright or shock it was unclear. The only clear thing was the cloud of dust left in their wake as they departed in a frantic rush.

 

Clarke narrowed her eyes, “Octavia, please.”

 

At the plead, the brunette’s eyes softened, “Okay, I might have told Bell that I told you about how he didn’t want to tell you about you being the reason we had to leave The Dropship.”

 

“So?”

 

“So, I don’t know. He just got really stiff and walked away. Then he barked orders for all those going to war to sign up with Harper and follow him to train.”

 

“I’m not mad that he hid that from me. I just told you, I understand. I feel bad, about it all. About the risk I put you guys in, but I would never hate him for it.”

 

“Oh, believe me, we know you don’t hate him.”

 

Her pink cheeks were now red. Tomato red.

 

“I’m his sister, and I don’t even get him sometimes. All I know is, he was fine up until I mentioned that.”

 

Clarke furrowed her brows, lips flat in concern. She searched through her mind for reasons but she couldn’t think of any. Maybe he really didn’t like the kiss…or her. Maybe he felt violated. Maybe he had someone in his room.

 

 _Fucking, shit._ Clarke bit her lip hard, drawing blood. _Maybe he had someone in his room._

 

“Hey, you okay?”

 

Clarke realized what she was doing and nodded. “Thanks Octavia. I am sorry about Lincoln.”

 

At his name, Octavia paused. The dining hall was now empty. Even the workers behind the counter, closed up their windows to the kitchen and put metal lids covering the remaining leftovers that sat along the edge of the marble white counters.

 

“It’s okay. We’ll be reunited on the battle field.” She spoke quietly, and Clarke saw the pain flash across her sharp features.

 

“You’re fighting?”

 

“Damn straight.”

 

Clarke tilted her head. Her blonde hair was loose around her shoulders and the movement caused it to brush her jaw line. “He’s letting you fight?”

 

“Bellamy or Lincoln?”

 

“Both.”

 

“They don’t dictate my life. They don’t make choices for me.”

 

Clarke smiled, one that manifested from near tears and the disappearance of the anger she previously had. “Good.”

 

\---

 

Clarke padded back and forth outside the training room. The maintenance workers, some IT crew guys walking past, and Kyle Wick all stopped to stare at her every time she cursed a little too loudly under her breath. She shot them an apologetic look but she could feel far from sorry at the moment.

 

“Seriously kid, you either go in or go find Raven and brag about how great I am.” Wick said, adjusting his bag and his grip on the piece of metal technology in his hand. She raised a brow at his sudden forward approach, but he only gave her a half smile and nodded to the concealed room before her. “You can do it.”

 

After leaving Octavia in the dining hall, Clarke made her way up to the last floor of the godforsaken villa and right outside the wide, white double doors where the man her feelings were conflicted about stood behind it; furious and viciously seeking out anyone to chew up.

 

She sent an appreciative look at Wick who finally made his way to the stairs, and down three floors where she was sure Raven Reyes was awaiting his lazy ass.

 

Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and moved forward.

 

 Lifting her shaky hand to push against the door, she was startled by a loud cough.

“Finn?”

 

His boyish hair seemed shorter, he must have cut it or something because it didn’t curve over his right eye like it had the previous day. Since the meeting Bellamy called where he delegated his presence in the war for training the few here who wanted to join him, and ensuring that the others who could help reach their upmost potential, Clarke hadn’t seen Finn. He seemed less interested in the words his supposed leader was saying, and more interest in something else. Something that was threatening the line between winning and losing the war.

 

“Hey, looks like we came full circle.” He nodded at the door, arms bent at his sides. 

 

Clarke evaluated him. The way his head hung too high like he was compensating for something. His jacket frailing even more than before, she could make out exactly where his fingers were, clenched and together in his pockets. Having heard clearly what he said, understanding how indeed they were standing right outside a new set of doors that hid Skicru’s most fearless fighters.

 

“Looks like,” she hummed. His brown eyes shone, not expecting her to be so curt. The guilt set in with Clarke. While she knew of his indecent acts, she didn’t truly know what had occurred. And while she had her best friend’s back, Finn made her feel less alone during her timid and painful first couple of days at The Dropship when everyone turned their backs on her.

 

“I’m sorry,” she concluded, slightly unsure why those words were the ones to leave her lips. Still, she continued, eyes darting from his own eyes. His left to his right, searching. “I know this war was something you wanted to avoid. Honestly,” she sighed, “maybe you’re right. Maybe us staying in that creepy bunker the day of the bombing might have kept us all alive. But until when?”

 

Finn’s lips set in a straight line. He looked anywhere else, studying the details of the creamy white doors.

 

“In order to really end this. To really put Jaha in his place, we had to do this, Finn.”

 

“You’re telling me you didn’t, for one second, believe there was another way?”

 

“Of course I did. But—”

 

“But what Clarke? What changed from then to now?”

 

She watched as his brows creased with utter confusion. He hadn’t been there with Lexa as she threatened lives like they were easily disposable. He hadn’t been there when Luna turned her back and willingly accepted the fact that innocent lives were being manhandled.

 

Finn Collins was sat, pretty, in his lonesome brooding cave on the tip top of The Dropship where peace was the right answer. The only answer.

 

“This is a time of war. Peace is an illusion, Finn. It took me a long while to understand, to realize this but it is exactly that. A false notion we tell ourselves will solve our problems. It won’t. There isn’t a right answer. It’s not what the good guys do versus what the bad ones do. It’s what humans would do when faced with dead ends every time they turn around.”

 

“He’s changed you.”

 

“How can I change? How can you claim that I’ve changed when you barely even knew me?”

 

The scoff that escaped him left her frozen, “Know you? I was you! Shunned because of a choice your heart made. Ignored by everyone yet living amongst them in insincere acceptance.”

 

“I may have made the choice to stay, to be here, to go to that damn Dropship with my heart, but going to war, I did that with my head.”

 

“Lie to me all you want,” Finn stepped closer to her, invading her space and peeling his hands from his pockets, “but we all know how you made your choice to becoming a murder. Very much with head.” He winked, before stepping away from her. Amusement flickered through him as he watched her eyes light up in anger.

 

Fuming, Clarke was left speechless. The boy in front of her, his spitting words floated in the air around her and as he retreated she felt her heart clench.

 

“The girl? The one you fought so hard to be with. The one you left Raven for?”

 

She caught the way his jaw clenched, the fine line firm and defined. “What about her?”

 

“Where is she?”

 

A long obvious pause set between them. Finn looking straight ahead, still tense and Clarke observing, knowingly.

 

“She got caught up in a fight that wasn’t hers.” Finn rubbed his left hand over his face. He ran his fingers through his hair and finally met her gaze. “If you love him, you wouldn’t doom him to the same fate.”

 

Echoes of his footsteps danced across the walls as he walked down the hall and through the end doors.

 

_Love_

The word stung. She couldn’t decide in what way. It hit a nerve just right, where she begged it to make that same extrusion again, but at the same time it tumbled into the acidic depths of her stomach that kept reminding her of where it would lead.

 

Finn was right. He was right about so many things.

 

Clarke has changed.

 

The white doors in front of her stood out brighter. With a promise of better and happier moments. Yet the lines moving across them, if you paid the right amount of attention you could see that they were black. Tainted and darkened like the other side of this coin she was internally flipping.

 

Deciding, that maybe this was in fact a mistake, she turned on her heel to be met with a bony chest and flying arms that nearly knocked her jaw out, hard.

 

“Woah, Clarke?”

 

“Fuck, what the hell Jasper?” she questioned, pressing her fingers to her chin.

 

Jasper grimaced, “Sorry.” He looked behind her, then the grimace turned into a full blown grin. “Ah, I see” he wagged his brow suggestively.

 

“Shut up. I was just leaving.”

 

“You do know he’s like really pissed off. Maybe you can you know, talk to him.”

 

If Clarke hadn’t been looking Jasper dead in the face, she would have assumed those words were teasingly spoken, nothing more. But the way his face turned grim, his features broke in worry, made her throat bob.

 

“I don’t get why he’s like that.” She shook her head in denial, “And why would you guys question it so much. It seems to me that his mood swings are an everyday thing.” She added in afterthought.

 

“Clarke…” Jasper trailed off. His eyes meeting the doors again. “Not like this.”

 

With an exaggerated push, Jasper’s arms wrapped around Clarke’s and he led her to the doors, then through them.

 

Inside, the sounds of flesh meeting foamed carpet, yells, and sweat sliding off foreheads met her ears. Air thick and heavy with humidity, she braced herself for the impact of the heat as it hit her neck and cheeks.

 

Bodies were being flung from left to right. It was chaos, organized self-defence chaos that had everyone paired up and sparring. In the corner were Monty and Harper, the latter explaining a motion of sudden and sharp movements that were lost on the young boy who watched her body move with loving eyes. If the smirk on Jasper’s fresh face was anything to go by, he was well aware of the lack of game his friend has.

 

“Ooh, the best part of all this,” Jasper began saying.

 

“Is the fact that we might have a chance to defend ourselves.” Clarke finished, blue spheres inhaling the movements, trying to memorize the course of action to the most complicated patterns.

 

“Uh, not what I was thinking Clarke. How about the fact that everyone here is half naked?” he nodded coolly at a few girls walking by with their palms wrapped in white fabric. “Excuse me.” Jasper whispered at her, but didn’t make it far enough to chase the objects of his affection when Clarke yanked him back by his sleeves.

 

“Hell no, you brought me in here to deal with the beast, your weak ass is staying.”

 

“Didn’t think you’d be afraid of confronting the _beast_ ,” Jasper fixed his shirt, rolling up the sleeves so Clarke couldn’t grab for them again.

 

Rolling her orbs, in an attempt to be playful, she crossed her arms across her chest and scanned the room. Said beast was nowhere to be found.

 

The grunts and groans of the fighting warriors around her edged her on. The urge to join them gunned her down, pushing her feet to move to stand within perfect view of the current choreographed brawl between Miller and Bryan.

 

Miller’s dark skin flashed left, he adjusted his footing as Bryan lunged at his right side. With an arm around his waist, Miller turned his body, strengthening his grip on Bryan’s neck until he was behind him, knocking the back of his knees down until they met the ground. The curve of his elbow nestling Bryan’s chin fearfully, as he tugged upward in demonstration of how he would end his lover’s life, if this was a battle in the war. Bryan knocked his numb fingers twice against his component’s arm to which he was released, gasping for air.

 

“So could’ve taken you.” He let out in a huff. Miller only smirked, blowing him a sweet kiss and patting the foam pads in front him. They took their positions again.

 

“Hey Beauty,” Jasper drawled out. Snapping her attention of the two fighters. “I see the Beast.”

 

Whipping her head, her blonde curls a tangled and greasy mess, flew around her. She didn’t need Jasper to point out where he saw their rebel leader. She found him. She could swear she’d find him if the room was filled to the brink with sweaty tired bodies and undefeatable combat skills.

 

The minute she saw the glistening tan skin of his bare chest, the butterflies that she thought she put to rest last night, came alive again. It took her four minutes last night, drowning her face in cold water in the girl’s room to finally keep the haunting heat away from her. Walking away from him last night was one of the hardest things she’s had to do but she had to do it. Conflicting feelings were customary when it came to her. Though her feelings were far from conflicted last night. She wanted him. Badly. Had she stayed she would have sunk deep into every part of him until she couldn’t remember her own name, or his for that matter. Which she knew, she could never forget a name like his. A face like his.

 

He was Bellamy Blake. She was acting on a whim, and if it was to be something more she wanted both of them to be sane. If possible.

 

“I think you have us mixed up.” Clarke mumbled, captivated by the well sculpted man across the room. He must work out at least three times a day, if Clarke had to guess. For sure. No doubt.

 

“Aww,” Jasper cooed. Shooting him a warning look, Clarke took three deep breaths before stepping in the opposite direction of where she intended to go.

 

“I can’t do this.”

 

Jasper chuckled, “Yes you can.” The encouragement, evident in his tone, was not as comforting as she hoped.

 

“No. I can’t. He’s mad at me. I kissed him and everyone knows. And now he’s mad at me.”

 

“For kissing him? I highly doubt that.”

 

“Jasper, you’re a nice guy but cut the bullshit.”

 

Sighing, he placed his palm firmly on the square of her back. “How the fuck do you think I know what happened between you guys? I was there.”

 

Ignoring her questioning look, he bit his lip to hide an ever growing grin.

 

“I saw the way he looked at you as you walked away. I was willing to bet my entire stash of weed and moonshine that he would follow you. The man looked ready to attack.” He shrugged cockily. “Beast.”

 

“You lost out on your weed and moonshine?”

 

“Fuck no. Thank God no one was around, and I didn’t make that bet out loud. Although, if we had bet on the two of you, the war would come and go and we’d all die before either one of you shoved your nose out of your ass and did something.”

 

“Encouraging.” Clarke deadpanned.

 

“Always.”

 

With a final push, he set her on the direction of the stern soldier, ready to attack.

 

She heard that deep, velvety voice that went straight to her core before she was at an acceptable distance from him. His orders were gruff, borderline rudeness in the way he was speaking to the few fighters in front of him, but they didn’t seem to mind. If anything, they focused profoundly. Nodding sharp and quick before dispersing.

 

She stood still, his back turned to her as he went to address someone else. The air rushed out of her, and she toppled over trying to fill her lungs, she didn’t realize she was moving in his direction until she met soft, sweaty flesh.

 

Bellamy turned in haste, fiercely shooting daggers at whoever had the audacity to bump into him. When he noticed who it was, there was brief moment of gentleness, before the cold ridges returned.

 

“Griffin.”

Clarke, brought her hands up to her chest, unsure of what to do with them really, and when her eyes betrayed her and lingered down to his well sculpted abs, she feared bringing them back up to the look awaiting her.

 

“Blake,” she replied, meeting those brown circles that held that glint she was terrified of.

 

“Something wrong?” he asked bringing his own arms up, crossing them across his pecs, his well-defined, glistening pecs.

 

 _Fuck me_ , Clarke thought, groaning to herself at how stupid she’s being in letting him have such an effect on her. Then, just as soon, internally scolding herself at the very frank double meaning.

 

“I don’t know you tell me.”

 

Quirking his brow, his features set in straight lines. Not a single trace of anger or smugness. “We’re training here. So unless you have a reason to disrupt us, or some medical emergency, maybe you should leave.”

 

“That’s all I’m good for? Bandaging your bruised ego? I actually came here to fight, jackass. You aren’t the only one entering the battlefield.” Though she was blatantly lying, her comment must have struck something because his entire face narrowed.

 

“The fuck are you talking about?”

 

A cruel smile was threatening to spill as she watched him fluster in irritation. “What so only Octavia can learn to fight? Only Harper and Monty and Miller. Even Jasper,” she jerked her chin in the direction of the kind fool who was shamelessly flirting with one of the Alpha Squad girls.  “Bad example,” she concluded, bashfully.

 

Smirking, Bellamy parted his lips. Her eyes following the movement, and with the smirk grew she cursed herself again.

 

“You can’t fight. There’s not enough time to train you to be half as good as the levels that Harper and Octavia are on. I let you go into battle and you’ll die three seconds in.”

 

“You don’t let me do anything, Blake. I choose for myself.”

 

At first, her challenge of fighting amongst them was to rise a reaction out of him. To save face for the fact that she was hopelessly lost in him and he was shutting her out. Now, her motive was to prove herself. Something she’s had to do since she stepped foot into the same world as him.

 

He stepped closer, the air turning from hers alone to theirs to share. Leaning down, he halted their height difference as the top of his curly mane brushed the edge of her forehead. His smell rammed into her, and it took every fiber in her body to stop her from gulping in his scent, filling herself with thoughts of him and him alone.

 

“You like making deals, don’t you Princess?”

 

Clarke shivered, giving herself away. She was so consumed by the memory of his bow shaped lips, of the hard planes of the chest taunting her right now that she couldn’t really comprehend anything else. It hit her hard when she knew it wasn’t one sided. She let her tongue peek out, licking her own lips, dry from unexpected lack of air.

 

“What?” she asked, and when her gaze flickered upwards, she saw that his were fixated on one thing. She tapped his chin, playfully dragging his focus back.

 

“We fight, and if you win, you’re welcome to join us. If you lose—”

 

“If I lose, I go back to Arkadia.”

 

Bellamy stood straight, not expecting her to draw up that bargain.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“If I lose, I go to Arkadia and figure out a way to stop their defenses from the inside.”

 

The plan was brewing in her from the minute she learned that Arkadia was targeting her. From when she caught full awareness that her mother played a dangerous role in not only the progress of this godforsaken war but possibly her father’s death, Well’s and her own daughter’s. She was hoping to bring this up at a time when both her and Bellamy were level-headed. When she can admit to her feelings and beg him to understand. A large part of her hoped he felt the same, that maybe he’d understand. He had a sister, he knew love.

 

Even if he didn’t feel the same about her, he’d have to understand on some level. He’d have to understand the need to protect your loved ones at all costs. Especially when they were about to enter in a gruesome clash where your enemies and allies are all blurred into one.

 

“You hit your head or something, Griffin? You can’t just walk back there and expect them to welcome you. Their defenses will be extreme, guards on every other entrance and the wall fortified. And this is not because war is coming, but because the Chancellor’s son was shot a few weeks ago. Besides, the point of a deal is that someone wins. It seems like no matter what happens, you win.”

 

“There’s a way. There’s always a way and I’ll find it. I’m not the girl you think I am, Blake. I may have fallen for your shit before, your fool’s errand where you led me to thinking there was a way out of the war only to have me put aside in order to make sure your plans follow through, but not anymore. I’ve changed. I’m stronger.” Clarke seethed, her nose an inch away from bumping into his. If they acquired an audience, they didn’t know nor care. “I’ll find a way to break through their barriers and stop their attacks on the inside. I can even gather up a crew and go in. Monty, Raven, Wick and Murphy.”

 

“Murphy?”

 

“Trust me.” Clarke responded to his quizzed look. “They are no help here. There’s nothing on this side of the war that they could do to help. They’re skills are better off ridding us of the enemy from the inside. Taking down their walls, _the wall_ , from the inside.”

 

Bellamy clenched his jaw, standing upright he fixed her with his most scrutinizing look. “So you either join the war as a solider or go behind enemy lines as a spy?”

 

“You said it yourself, I love making deals.” She smirked, tilting her head up as she stepped closer. “You’d think I’d be better at making them.”

 

With her exposed neck, slanted head glaring up at him, and his stern focus, head bent down matching her stare, the whole room sat on an eerie and dark stillness.

 

“What’s it going to be?” She took another step closer, toe to toe with him now. “Which one would you rather lose?”

 

“You mean you or you?”

 

“I mean me or the war.”


End file.
